


The Tactician

by Blue_Daddys_Girl



Series: Collected Kifus [1]
Category: Star Wars, Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: Thrawn Trilogy - Timothy Zahn, Star Wars: Rebels, Star Wars: Thrawn Series - Timothy Zahn (2017)
Genre: Action & Romance, Alien Culture, Banter, Chiss, Chiss headcanon, Coffee Shops, Consent is Sexy, Death Troopers - Freeform, During Canon, Eventual Romance, Explicit Consent, F/M, Female Friendship, Fluff and Humor, Friendship, ISB Officers, Imperials Need Love, In Between books, Male-Female Friendship, My First Fanfic, Ord Mantell, Original Character(s), Other, POV Multiple, POV Thrawn | Mitth'raw'nuruodo, Pantoran Culture, Pantoran religion, Pantorans (Star Wars), Platonic Thranto, Plot, Rebels As Bad Guys, Space Stations, Strong Female Characters, Thrawn Romance, Togruta - Freeform, Work In Progress, Zabraks (Star Wars), Zero Gravity, Zunzu, the chimaera
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:55:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 58,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26899279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blue_Daddys_Girl/pseuds/Blue_Daddys_Girl
Summary: The Chimaera is ordered to refit at the Ord Mantell deepdock, and Thrawn, forced to take some overdue RNR, meets a local who hands him his ass at a tactical warfare holo-game. A little stunned and now definitely curious, Thrawn will want the last word, and might even enjoy his holidays (if the station stays peaceful long enough)...
Relationships: Eli Vanto/Original Character(s), Original Imperial Character - Relationship, Thrawn | Mitth'raw'nuruodo & Eli Vanto, Thrawn | Mitth'raw'nuruodo/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Collected Kifus [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2145555
Comments: 232
Kudos: 109





	1. A Ball Planetside

'How come I never see him around these days?'

Maiya looked up from the cabinet she was cleaning to frown at Pyla. The middle aged Zabrak woman was perched on a high stool by the counter, pensively chewing on a meat bun. She wore her silky black hair in braids these days, weaved through with copper beads that matched the tone of her tattoos.

'Who do you mean?' Maiya asked, scanning the room. It was an hour to close time but word had gotten around that the gaming tables would be free to use today, and the cafe was packed. Many regulars were in attendance, sitting around chess and dejarik boards, or typing through manoeuvres at the zunzu consoles. Others loitered around, sipping their drink while standing behind players to observe their game. They all kept BT clanking industriously at the kaf machine.

'You know! The imperial.'

'Stars, Pyla, you've been a daily regular for what? Five years? Surely you remember Renri's name.'

The Zabrak grimaced, wrinkling her nose and showing some sharp incisors.

'I'm just concerned for you. He's the only one who challenges you these days, must be boring without him around, no? Maybe it's time for a new tourney?'

'How about you play me?'

'I only come for the meat buns.'

'I know sweetie, you're the person I buy the meat buns _for_.'

Maiya smiled. For someone who refused to play any of the games the Keykaf had on offer, Pyla was very invested in what went on. She showed up every morning religiously for her meat bun and take-away kaf, and popped back in some evenings, particularly if a tournament was going on, yet never joined.

'I've been too busy to play,' Maiya said, 'and I'm sure the same can be said of Renri.'

As if echoing her words, voices rose in the room calling out the name. 

'Ugrh! Here he comes!' Pyla groaned, swivelling on her stool to watch the human in black uniform making his way through the room, clapping hands and shoulders, nodding at the regulars greeting him. 'Speak of imperials and they darken your door!'

'What's this I hear?' Renri asked, sauntering to the counter with a smug grin, 'you've been missing me Pyla?'

'Dark is the day when I miss an imperial. Dark and unlikely to ever rise.'

'That hurts my feelings you know?'

'You can't hurt what you don't have, _major_.'

'No bickering today, children,' Maiya said, laughing. She dropped her rag and made her way past BT. 'Make him his usual,' she whispered to the droid. BT flashed her eyes to acknowledge the order and set to work. Renri opened his arms, inviting Maiya in for a hug.

'I hear I'm to congratulate you?' He asked, beaming. 

She stepped into his embrace and they swayed from foot to foot, laughing. She was still a little giddy and yet uncertain about this long awaited development, but her friend's excitement warmed her through. 

'Yes, two days ago.' she said, stepping back. 'Handed the last creds in person. Keykaf is mine now, in full. I'll owe nothing more than whatever taxes station levies.'

'That'll keep you poor enough,' Pyla muttered. 

'How are you feeling?' Renri asked, a little seriousness creeping back into his eyes. 

'A little dazed,' Maiya admitted. She gave him a reassuring smile, hopping to push the topic to a later date.

Renri gave her a tiny nod. The man was one of the keenest she'd ever met, when it came down to human interactions. He read people like books, and rumour had it he was banned from every sabacc joint in Padar. However, _dramatic_ was the best way to describe him. She often wondered about his staying with the navy, when he had all the makings of a holodrama star. Yet again he did not disappoint:

'Listen,' he said, shifting his expression to one of theatrical solemnity, 'I'm in a bit of a tough spot today. I bring you an invitation to an event I think you might enjoy... But although it looks like a celebratory gift because of the timing... The truth is, it's really me asking you a favour.'

Pyla scoffed, but Maiya made great use of her years of experience keeping a straight face.

'I have been insanely busy, you see,' Renri went on, unphased, 'or else I'd have come sooner with the offer. There is a ball tonight, planetside. At the governor's country estate. You know my feelings on that sort of stuff... So, would you do me the favour of slipping in some fancy clothes and help me get through it?'

'Of course! Why would I refuse free food and drink in a fancy politician's mansion?'

'A whole evening with imperials and their friends? I hope for your sake the food is that good,' Pyla said. She was done with her snack and throwing her jacket back on her shoulders. She hopped off the stool and reached out to Maiya to bring her into an embrace of her own. 

'You've worked hard,' she said, jerking her head toward the busy tables. 'You deserve some fun. But if someone makes a weird pass at you...'

'I'll be on your comm with name, rank and location and expect to receive their fingers in a little gilded box. Seriously, sometimes you're like a Hutt right out of a gangster drama.'

'Just take care.'

And with one last hard glare at Renri, she turned around and left. 

'As intense as ever,' he remarked when she was gone, accepting his steaming cup of kaf from BT and taking a careful sip from it. 

'When will you two just start dating?'

'On the morning of a day that shall never rise, apparently?'

'Maybe if you stopped working for the empire?'

'And work where? I'd need a fine job. I suspect Pyla is a high maintenance lady...'

Maiya rolled her eyes. 

'Like you'd struggle to find one!'

'Like they'd let me go this easily,' he replied, tapping a finger against his insignia, with its four red on blue squares. Although he said nothing, Maiya knew he was bitter about being made major.

 _'I never wanted the attention'_ , he had said to her as they sat around a game of zunzu on the evening of that unexpected promotion. He'd won the game through unrelenting aggression. Though she had prodded, he had not explained. He was a bit of an oddball, and Maiya had not figured him out yet, despite her own knack for reading people. She suspected she was a few stories away from making sense of this quirk of his character. Maybe some childhood trauma? Maybe some dark promises? Maybe she did watch too many holodramas. 

'So, this ball?' She asked, changing the topic. 

'We're expected in three hours, you have the time to close and–'

'I mean the reason? What's the occasion?'

Renri scoffed.

'Like I would know! I've been sleeping at the lab all of last week. Even the food has been droid delivered. I only just emerged today to get a fresh uniform at my place and it felt like waking from a nightmare.' He shook his head. 'I think it's political. Some self congratulatory event? Who knows? Discovering why we're there will be part of the fun. At any rate, all the brass was invited, and more. I don't have much of a choice.'

'Sounds like an interesting challenge. Things to think about as we eat all that buffet food. Should I braid my hair? Any dress code?'

Renri waved a hand dismissively.

'Whatever you wish so long as it isn't black. It'll be uniform galore.'

She made a quick mental inventory of her wardrobe and nodded to herself.

'I'm closing the doors in thirty minutes,' she said, 'why don't you go torture someone at dejarik? We can be on a shuttle in an hour.'

* * *

  
Thrawn suppressed a sigh.  
The week had started well enough. The Chimaera had arrived to Padar station and its deepdock, orbiting around Ord Mantell, following orders to be refitted with a new prototype of ion canons. Thrawn had promptly dispersed rolling rosters of his crew to go and take the RNR they were due. More than half of the officers were gone, though a few had opted to go down the gravity well or stay on the station. Vanto was supposed to remain aboard the ship, as Thrawn himself had been told in no uncertain terms that he was no exception and was expected to take his own assigned time off.   
He was loath to leave the ship, but had half reconciled himself to the prospect when they'd been met with a barrage of unexpected setbacks that delayed the start of the works. No one would speak to him or Vanto straightforwardly, the engineers were all held out of reach behind the iron curtains of the Padar research centre, and wave after wave of obtuse administrators had rendered the past three days as pointless and shallow as Kuruni poetry. It reeked of politics. And that was a smell he'd never cared for.  
The ball they were heading to was his best chance to cut through all the red tape and reach an officer he could pluck out of the crowds and squeeze for information–and maybe even explanations. He despised it, and his unhappy mood was overspilling on Vanto, he could tell, by the young man's unusual awkwardness with his uniform buttons.

'There', Vanto said, patting himself down, 'thank you for waiting.'

'Quite alright.' Thrawn said as they stepped out of their shuttle and into the glow of a warm summer sunset. 

'I know you hate these, but we'll be fine.'

Thrawn remained silent, calculating the chance their evening at the ball would result in a reasonable timetable for the refitting of the Chimaera that would put his mind to rest, and finding the odds depressingly low. 

'I just mean we'll survive the evening,' Eli added with a sideways glance at Thrawn as they stepped out of the landing pads and through the garden gates of the governor's expansive property. 'Even if we gain nothing, it's a nice evening, we can eat, drink, graciously talk to a handful of people, and make an early exit. It can't hurt to show ourselves to the local elite.'

'True enough, and I should not let my discontent get in the way of the evening.'

They passed under more arches and open patios, heavy with lush vegetation, blurring the lines between the gardens and the building. Thrawn glanced around him at the art on display, mostly sculpts and draperies, but saw little enough of interest. Ord Mantell was a rough planet. The governor held a lose grip on it, his gaze turned outward, his halls populated by the works of well known core artists–or talented forgers. The best things to come out of the system were from Padar station and the outer asteroid rings. Unless you were after a bounty hunter; in that case, the planet was indeed the place to be.   
They followed the flow of guests to a cavernous reception hall, hazily lit by glow-globes high up over the crowds, casting the ceiling into shadow. 

'Ah there!' Eli said, 'I recognise him.'

Thrawn turned and spied him too, the lead weapon's engineer, a major, recognisable by his distinctive skin, almost as dark as his uniform. His face was tilted toward them as he spoke in a woman's ear, eyes focused on his hand as he made shapes and tracks in the air to illustrate whatever he was describing.   
The woman, Thrawn noticed as he strode towards them, wore a flowing dress with split sides that marked her as a civilian. She turned her head and the dark stripes on her face, her bearing, her jewellery–all made him do a double take.  
He slowed, soaking in the details. The markings were reminiscent of those seen in adult togruta, her hair too, was dyed white and made up in three heavily ribboned braids. The golden chains on her brow were definitely a togruta design, and the markings, he realised, were most likely tattoos; ochre stripes along her brow and cheeks that complimented her bone structure.  
It struck him as too much for fashionable affectation, and he felt his mood brighten at the small but curious mystery.

'How intriguing,' he said, and watched the pair turn to him, watched their eyes widen.

A soft grin tugged at his lips. _Yes, this might be entertaining._


	2. A Challenge and a Dance

The ball was everything Maiya had hoped for. It was set in one of the mansion's many reception halls, a large, open room with wide arches leading off into several balcony gardens and glow globes matching the warm light of the sunset. Given Ord Mantell's rotational speed, the 'sunset' was a two hours affair and a real mood. The back wall was lined with tables laden with food while droid and human waiters milled through the crowd offering drinks. People hung around in clumps, discussing and mostly ignoring the live band.

'No dancing and free food–I really don't see what is so terrible about these imperial parties.'

'Oh, the dancing will start later, and one is judged on one's performance, or lack thereof.'

She laughed and spun around, enjoying the heavy swish of her dress wrapping around her knees in the planet's strong gravity. It was an off-white 'Bunmee' style robe with split sides and silver trimmed sash belt that her mother had gifted her when she'd been accepted as a research fellow, and Maiya relished the rare occasions she got to wear it.

'You invited me to help you look good on the dance floor? Bold move.'

'Wrong again, my friend,' Renri said, handing her one of the glasses he'd plucked from the tray of a passing waiter, 'I brought you here so I could have some intelligent conversation while I'm being judged for refusing to try a jig.'

Maiya accepted the drink. It had a sweet smell and tasted of berries, though not ones she could identify. She scanned the crowds as she sipped. Almost everyone in attendance was depressingly human, but she was pleased to note that most women had opted out of wearing their uniforms, so that she did not stand out too sorely. Their style differed, evidently. None of the imperial ladies showed any leg above the knee, for one thing, but all sported bright colours, making the men conspicuous in their dark uniforms.

'Why are there so many different patterns of uniform?' She asked.

'A Star Destroyer docked in for extensive refits last week. The different design is that of the visiting officers. There is a difference between ground and space crew, and again for the ISB.' Renri pointed at people through the crowd as he spoke. 'See the greyish tone? And the way the seams are asymmetrical, that's them.'

'Why are the scary guys the best dressed ones?'

'Don't ask me!' Renri shrugged. 'Maybe they have some serious dirt on the seamstress who dresses us all from Coruscant.'

'Seamstress? Not fashion designer?'

Renri gave her a stern look. 'Please.'  
  
Maiya chortled. 'Hey, at least you don't get that weird shade of green and these baggy pant legs. Still, that's a lot of black suits here tonight.' 

'Yes, it's a much larger assembly than I expected, and tensions might arise. Let's just try our best to stay out of trouble.'

Maiya was about to quiz him further, to ask whether tension would be due to the 'Project', to petty rivalries, or to some other aspect of imperial service life she could not fathom, when a man approached them, an accented, sibilant statement announcing him.

'How intriguing.'

She turned to face the newcomer, and it was all she could do not to gawk.  
The man who'd spoken wasn't in fact _a man_. Tall and lean, clad in a white uniform, he had a deep blue skin, blue black hair, red on red eyes, and a facial bone structure vaguely reminiscent of a deconstructo-realist sculpt. Maiya had never seen anything like him in any archive throughout her studies and thesis, and her curiosity was so crushing she felt sure her face must have turned red from it.

'Who's intriguing?' she asked, a little breathless.

'A human woman whose hairstyle, jewellery, and skin markings are that of a togruta? Unless you are a type of alien I am not aware of, there has to be an interesting story there.'

'These are just tattoos,' she scoffed, flicking a hand in the air as if a snap of her wrist could make them disappear to reveal what she'd looked like as a child—plain, human. 'Unless you've tattooed your entire skin evenly and had some serious surgery done to your face, I'd say you're the one with an interesting story in this room.'

'I am a known quantity to myself however,' the alien said, a wry smile stretching his thin, purplish lips, 'and hence entirely boring.'

'Oh no, my being human, in this room–no, this Empire–makes me win the boring contest by default. Now then, could I know what you are, as my prize? What your people are called?'

A slight man in the navy's black uniform seemed to materialise by the alien's elbow, dipping his head in a silent salute.

'Maybe we should start with introductions?' He asked, 'I'm commander Eli Vanto, of the ISD Chimaera.'

Maiya's first impulse was to keep teasing the alien, but her instincts chimed in, stopping her. She realised that Renri, always one for banter, had not only been silent during this entire exchange, he'd been so perfectly still she'd have thought him gone if she couldn't see him from the corner of her eye.

'My name is Maiya Kaiden,' she said, giving the little bow imperial officers seemed so fond of.

'I am Mitth'raw'nuruodo, though you may call me Thrawn.' The red eyes, which had a soft glow to them, shifted past her. 'And you are officer Sa'ronz?' 

Maiya felt, more than saw, Renri take a tentative step back, like he was ready to bolt. She turned towards him, smiling, acting as if everything was perfectly alright. She'd never seen such an expression on Renri's face. It was as if painted on, calculated to the smallest atom to look as lifeless as politely possible. His stance was frozen in the casual posture he'd had while talking with her, the stem of his crystal glass still nestled between stiff fingers.  
Renri, she realised, was terrified.

'Yes sir, major Renri Sa'ronz sir, engineering corps.'

'A very hard man to access. I am delighted to finally meet you. I was starting to think you may not be real after all.'

Renri's dusky complexion darkened further with an awkward blush, but he eased into a new posture, shoulders relaxed, chin up; back in control.

'I was not aware that you were looking for me sir, or I would have come to you.'

Maiya observed the exchange of pleasantries that followed with some incredulity. Thrawn was complimenting Renri on his record, and Renri tried his best to accept with good graces while thoroughly deprecating his abilities.

'You have any idea what is going on?' she asked Vanto. 

The man, who she thought seemed very young for a commander, gave her an appraising look. 

'We've been struggling since our arrival to get a definite estimate for our refit. Thrawn is just very excited to meet the best engineer on base, and will probably do his best to drag him back to the ship.'

Maiya noted the words, _best engineer on base_. She'd had no notion that this was the case, but Renri spoke little enough of his work. If it were true, it certainly explained the rash of promotions.

'Is he always... like that?' She asked, waving her hand at the tall alien who was as stoic as he was relentless in his assault of Renri's defences.

Vanto, she thought, caught himself before he could roll his eyes, coughed in his fist and drawled out a 'you have no idea.'

'Is he a good boss?'

Vanto's expression hardened. 

'Yes,' he said, and turned back to follow the poor excuse for a conversation. 

Thrawn's questions followed a tightening logical spiral. They started from broader topics and seemed to bounce around, sometimes asking about life on Padar, sometimes enquiring after specific people at the deepdock, but the focus kept narrowing. He wanted names and access to these names, she thought, and it seemed like bending Renri in a figure-eight knot in the process was not an issue. It was done beautifully, like a verbal Huugens manoeuvre, she mused, she just couldn't fathom why he wouldn't cut to the chase and play rank on poor Renri. Not like he could refuse to answer someone with _gold epaulettes_.

As she finished her drink, it dawned on her that it might be her responsibility, as a friend, to make an attempt at rescuing Renri from the blue clutches of this peculiar officer. If she could interfere with dancing, certainly she could try interfering in the conversation. She also started to suspect Thrawn might be misinterpreting Renri's reluctance.   
She waited for a natural break and jumped in.

'I'm ever so sorry to change the topic, but aren't you a zunzu player, Thrawn?'

The man turned to her, startled. His mouth opened, closed on whatever answer was about to come out. He cocked his head instead. 

'What makes you believe that?'

 _I've got you_ , she thought, _and I'd probably get you on a board too_.

'Do you want the entire train of thought, or a simple summary?'

'The entire process if you would. Consider me intrigued.'

'Well, Commander Vanto's accent is charming, but clearly wild space, and that's where zunzu is most popular. It was invented on Kalee after all. Then there's _you_ ,' she said, palm open and up as if to present him as her best piece of evidence, 'academically unlisted near-human alien that you are. You must be from the fringes of wild space, or even further out. The imperial navy is many things, but certainly not a safe haven for aliens to climb up the power ladder. This means you're either a genius or the Emperor's son. Given the lack of familial resemblance, I'm left to assume you must be a great tactician, rose through the ranks by doing twice the work or thrice the politicking of your human counterparts.  
Besides, I'm sure Navy life offers plenty of long stretches where picking up a classic tactical war game would be both useful and entertaining for someone like you. Mr Vanto could have taught you if you didn't already know a version of it. You seem to be old friends.'

'How–' Vanto started–Maiya cut him off, enumerating her points with her free hand.

'You didn't laugh at his quip, interupted him without fear of recrimination. None came either. Your attention was drifting the past two minutes... Ah, and you very nearly rolled your eyes, earlier.' She turned back to Thrawn. 'Now, believe it or not, I have no idea how to read your insignia, but you're the first white clad imperial I've ever seen, and those shiny epaulettes... A commodore or some flavour of admiral?'

Thrawn nodded at the guess. 'Grand Admiral,' he said.

 _Ah well_ , Maiya thought, _that explains why Renri's acting like a nexu's stalking him._ She turned back to Vanto.

'I bet not many people get this comfortable around Grand Admirals, even if you give them a couple of years. I'd guess you met early in your careers? Plenty of time to sit at a zunzu console. All of this is of course just a string of assumptions, and one leading me to a question, not a statement.'

Thrawn looked at her, his face betraying nothing, his red eyes unreadable. 

'As it happens, I do play zunzu.'

Maiya flashed a predatory smile. 'It'd be my pleasure to beat you at it then.'

Now Thrawn's face showed expression: surprise, astonishment, or his alien equivalent. 

'You surmised I might be a tactical genius, and then offer to beat me? It speaks volume about your confidence, if nothing else.'

Eli Vanto was looking at her as if she'd grown a second head. Renri, who was a little grey around the eyes, shook himself enough to speak up.

'Sir, before you commit to it, I believe you ought to know Maiya is a pretty big local name in the competitive zunzu world.'

'Renri please!' She exclaimed, 'don't go giving information to my opponent.'

'Do you play yourself major?'

'Only marginally, sir.'

'What nonsense. He wins almost half of his games against me, he could be one of the top ranking players in the system, if only he applied to the official tournaments.'

'More like three out of ten.' 

'That sounds inaccurate.'

'Oh, but I'm keeping track,' Renri said, a tentative smile returning to his face. 'Don't listen to her, sir. She's a great friend, more than an accurate one.'

'Look at you now, teaching the admiral not to trust a word out of my mouth.'

Thrawn chuckled, apparently not a frequent occurrence, if the new surprise on his subordinate's face was anything to go by.

'Do you play too then, Commander Vanto?' Maiya asked. 'Was my terrible string of assumptions correct, per chance?'

Thrawn's polite demeanour, waiting patiently for Vanto to rally enough to answer, was further proof of their friendship. The commander seemed quite shaken and she wasn't sure why. 

'I am from Lysatra, which is in wild space, yes. And you're right, zunzu is very popular there, though I've never played it very seriously, my family's cargo ships usually have a console on board.'

Renri nodded knowingly. 'Yes, your ship wasn't worth much if you didn't have dejarik and zunzu on board in my system too.'

'Where do you hail from, Major Sa'ronz?' Thrawn asked, his intense gaze focusing back on him.

Maiya didn't have to look at Renri to know he'd be regretting his comment. He never liked to talk about his homeworld. At least his reasons in that regard were no mystery. He'd gone to great pains to hide any trace of wild space accent from his voice, and did not like it to be widely known he'd been raised on a world Coruscant maps often didn't even bother labelling. 

'It's alright,' she said, grinning at him, 'I have a feeling we're all members of back-water planets anonymous.'

Renri scoffed. 'Weren't you born on Shili? As a Thune native, I rescind your membership to this club.'

'No I wasn't actually, I came from a colony project between here and Shili, and it's still not connected by any hyperspace lanes, so I'll keep my card, thank you.'

'You've come a long way from Thune, major,' the Grand Admiral remarked. 

Maiya didn't hear Renri's reply. She was starring between Thrawn and Vanto, at the advancing figure of none other than Governor Ohtee Fame. She had never met the man before but his face was ubiquitous, gaunt and austere, with his salt and pepper hair tied in a severe bun. He glided across the room in heavy purple velvet robes with gilded pins at the shoulder.  
There was no way he was coming for Renri or her, but his arrival would mean introductions and more attention, placing them at the political eye of the storm. Thrawn was bad enough, constantly drawing sidelong glances, but the Governor? 

_'Let's just try our best to stay out of trouble'_ , Renri had said, and trouble was making a beeline for them. She considered the many branching paths of the several actions standing before her. It seemed unlikely Thrawn would let go of them easily, so if they could not remove themselves, she needed to remove him, leave nothing of interest for the Governor in this corner of the room. 

'Mister Vanto, can I ask you a favour?' She asked, turning towards the man. The band had started playing the dances, and she needed to seize the moment. 'Would you please keep company to my friend and look threatening to anyone who tries to take him away to dance? Much obliged. Now'—she hooked her hand through Thrawn's elbow and without a shiver of a doubt that he would follow, marched towards the centre of the now lively dance floor. 'I know how to dance this one, and it is a genderless 'Werbier'. I assume you know the steps?'

'We are taught them at the academy, however I—'

'Won't need to lead. I can do it. Just follow my cues.'

'I will try my best,' Thrawn said, looking gravely down at her.

'Think of us as two warring ships,' Maiya said. She put his hand on her shoulder, the other in her grasp, and put her own guiding hand in the small of his back, pulling him in to a small series of steps to show him what to expect. 'We have no shields, we're low on rounds. You need to stick to me, to read my moves off the cues I give. You can't let me escape, you should not collide with me—' as the refrain came around she slipped her demonstration into the first steps of the dance. Thrawn, though never showing any panic, or much of any emotions, was awkward for a bit, before clicking into place. He gave her a private little smile then, yielding to her pull in perfect timing.

'I see. The image is very fitting. It is a lot like dogfighting.'

'Or maybe the dogfight is like a lethal dance?'

The alien's smile broadened, and Maiya realised that while she had no idea if he was judged handsome by his people, he was definitely attractive by her standards. She noted again the glow of his eyes, and the heat he radiated.

'Your people's home planet is an ice world or going around a weak sun, is it not?'

'Indeed. Excellent deduction.'

'You can see in infra red?'

'Some.'

'Must be neat.'

'I wouldn't know.'

'Of course not. But I can tell you it is. Without infra red, it will be harder for me to tell when you're blushing.'

'Just assume I don't blush.' He said, deadpan.

'Please. Don't tempt me to scientifically disprove that.'

As they turned around, her dress wrapped around his legs and she leaned back a little against his arm, sneaking a look in Renri and Vanto's direction. They stood alone, discussing. Another turn of the werbier and she could see Ohtee Fame being encircled by a new group of sycophants. Mission accomplished, she thought smugly. Between this little manoeuvre and her dancing partner she could now quiz to her heart's content, she was in real danger of enjoying herself. 

Thrawn gave her a knowing look. 'Will you tell me why you have pulled me away from your friend and into this dance?'

So the man could cut to the chase. Why he did that with her whilst he'd worried at Renri like a bone, she could not guess. 

'I think you make a dashing figure,' Maiya replied, beaming up at him, 'and I wanted to have the honour and pride of being the first woman to whirl you around the dance floor tonight.'

Thrawn squinted his eyes.

'A dashing figure?'

'It means you are handsome, with a well proportioned body, dressed in a flashy and smartly cut uniform.'

'A compliment?'

'Certainly.'

'Wrapped in a lie?'

'No, more like an deflection.'

'And so the real reason is?'

'What are your people named?'

Thrawn smiled again, this little smirk that thinned his lips and would be cold if his eyes weren't so intense. 

'The Chiss. We speak Cheunh. Our home world is called Csilla. It is deep in the unknown regions. There are not many of us within the empire. At least I am the only one I'm aware of, which probably explains why your academia did not prepare you for our meeting.'

'Ah... That sounds lonely. It's also too much information, I'll now be in your debt for more than I was bargaining for.'

'Well, we can start with the real reason for this dance lesson, and take it from there...'

She laughed, and spun him around, and round again. _Yes, this might be entertaining._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for your support with chapter 1, everyone! I'm trying to quickly get in the meat of things, and keep alternating POV chapters for the time being. Hope the mid scene endings aren't too jarring. Let me know!


	3. Some Answers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made a little change to chapter 1 you guys, altering a line :  
> "her hair too, was **dyed white** and made up in three heavily ribboned braids."  
> That's because hair colour will come to be relevant, but I haven't figured out *when* exactly, and I can't be bothered shoe-horning a line with T-man mooning over Maiya's scalp as they dance. Enjoy!!
> 
> edit : forgot to mention, I make here another use of the 'spiceleaf' tea invented by [Draculard](https://archiveofourown.org/users/draculard/pseuds/draculard) in the really cute oneshot [Bad Dreams](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26944759)

'Will you please save this question for last? Don't you find that politics sour the mood?' The woman asked.

Thrawn looked down into her eyes, washed out grey, almost metallic in the hall's nebulous lights, and bright with amusement.  
He had to admit, her flippant attitude was delightful.   
The higher his rank, the less strife he got on the way to getting things done. His status curtailed many tiring habits, but also made most people aloof, and though he did not regret it, he often missed this, the simpler interactions with someone who knew but didn't care. Someone who expected nothing more out of him than careful footwork and intelligent repartee. Two things he was more than happy to oblige with. 

'I can agree with that sentiment. Very well. Will you explain to me the source of your curiosity regarding my people?'

'What do you mean? I'm sure everyone who meets you is curious. They might just be too shy to ask.'

Thrawn shrugged. 'Most people don't care. Others tend to assume.'

'Assume! Assume what?'

'That I'm a Pantoran with an eye condition.'

'A Pan—' she threw her head back in a full throated laugh. Her leading wavered, and Thrawn took over. The steps were not complicated. He shifted his hands and she complied graciously–or perhaps was just too busy laughing to muster a protest.

'I'm sorry,' she said, when the spell had passed and she'd brushed off the tears that had run down her tattooed cheeks. 'I guess it's a little bit of a nerdy joke for exobiologists. It's always surprising to me how incurious people can get when it comes to other species. How does one look out into the galaxy and stop feeling wonder?'

Thrawn had nothing to say to that. He for one had never looked out with wonder so much as with calculated interest and analytical scrutiny. A sentiment he did not feel inclined to share at the moment with the human in his arms. There was beauty in the galaxy, certainly, but he suspected they might not find it in the same places.

'You are an exobiologist then?'

She shook her head. 'An exo _socio_ biologist, by training, though not by trade.'

Thrawn lifted an eyebrow appreciatively. That explained a lot of things. 

'And before you ask,' the woman went on, 'I studied the influence of so-called _'humanoid'_ convergent evolution in both human-variants and near-humans on cultural habits. Or what your society and mine have in common and how much of it is due to our remarkably similar body plan.'

He thought this information over.

'What of your togruta origins?' He asked. 'The colony you were born on is a togruta settlement, is it not? I would suspect at least one of your parents, or carer, was togruta.'

Her smile grew colder, more studied. She was not very tall, but rather muscular under the softness of a settled life, and he felt the muscles in her back bunch under his hand. Her breathing never faltered nor picked up. She kept up with the steps, studied him back without betraying any emotion on her face but what she'd chosen to display there. She did not flush, did not clench her jaws, did not frown.   
As the seconds ticked by on the beat of the dance, Thrawn felt an increasing appreciation for her earlier boast. If she could keep such composure while sitting at a game, she might prove very difficult to read. 

'Yes it is. A togruta colony, I mean. Though other species were present, as you can imagine, and well,' she shrugged, her feisty smile returning, 'my mother had a thing for stripes and montrals. I'll spare you the next guess. It's a yes. My odd upbringing most likely pushed me to study exosoc.'

'Interesting. Where the tattoos some form of... Cultural integration? A rite of passage perhaps?' 

She shook her head. 'We moved here when I was pretty young. They're an homage. A token of love for my father.'

'He must be a great man.'

'He most certainly was.'

'I'm sorry to hear that,' he said, frowning. The woman, _Maiya Kaiden_ , inclined her head graciously, accepting his words. Before he could say anything more, the music died down and the chatter rose across the room. 

'Thanks for the dance,' Kaiden said, 'that was excellent.' 

'All thanks to you. And now,' Thrawn intoned with studied gloom, 'our fateful return to politics.' 

'Right. But come, let's have some food. No boring discussion should ever be had on an empty stomach.'

* * *

'It appears as if my friend has kidnapped your superior.' Major Sa'ronz noted in a deadpan voice.

'It would seem so. She isn't shy, is she?' 

'I'm not usually shy either, when my career doesn't hang on my every word. But she has less inhibitions than most. I think it comes from the togruta side of her family. Togrutas are _very_ social and friendly, they crash past many things considered firm boundaries back on Thune.'

A human with togruta family? Thrawn had his fun cut out for him this evening then. But Vanto had found her a bit _too_ brazen. He suspected she'd wanted to break the group and make Thrawn inaccessible. Or else keep him away from major Sa'ronz.  
Maybe he was reading too much into it. Maybe her interest for the chiss was real. In which case he hoped they had fun together. He could do the information gathering better on his own at any rate. Eli turned back to the major who was eyeing him curiously. 

'Why do you feel your career is at risk?' Eli asked. 'The admiral only wants to understand... Stars, so do I. We're already a week behind schedule and we don't know _why_. We've been trying to talk to deepdock officers or research facility staff like you, but it has all been smoke and mirrors. I just want someone to give it to me straight.'

'I'm not dreading your admiral as much as I am dreading my own superior, commander Vanto. You had a taste of how things run on Padar I see.' The man made a gesture without meaning to Eli, but his expression was derisive. 'I hope you'll believe me when I tell you I've been neck deep in new blueprint designs and running my teams ragged, and it all is entirely unconnected to your new ion canons.'

Eli nodded. His blunt honesty was paying off, as he'd hoped it would with another fellow from wild space.

'Telling it straight isn't the way around here though. Have fun trying to convince some of the bureaucrats at the deepdock offices that this isn't Coruscant...'

Eli groaned and rubbed at the bridge of his nose. 

'I miss wild space politics and negotiations sometimes... They're not... You know...'

'Yeah, more like–' Renri unholstered an imaginary blaster, arm out in the posture of a cocky gunslinger, and with a 'pow', shot straight for Eli's chest.

Eli laughed, slapping a hand to his heart as if mortally wounded. 'Come on,' he said, 'it's not _that_ harsh.'

'You're right,' Renri agreed, 'just replace the blaster with a cred-card half the time.' 

The two men guffawed, slapping each other's shoulder and leaning in for more whispered comments that were too crude to be overheard.  
The music died down then, and the major nudged Eli.  
  
'Look,' he said, pointing at Thrawn and the Kaiden woman walking away towards the buffet, 'I think we've been thoroughly ditched, let's grab some food of our own, why dontchee?'

Eli grinned at the patois. It wasn't like anything he'd heard around Lysatra, but it wasn't 'proper core basic' either. An offer from one wild space man to another, for a catch up between strangers. Fine, he'd tag along. Maybe this major had more to say that could help. Or else, he could at least have some fun of his own.

* * *

'Just, what _is_ this thing,' Thrawn asked, wrinkling his nose at the offensive smell.

Maiya Kaiden laughed and stabbed the reddish brown thing with a wooden pick. She brandished it, as if handing it to him. 

'It's one of these local specialties that'll never become a _local delicacy_ , because it'll never make it off planet. It's actually very smooth and mellow in taste. It's a mantellian savrips treat. They make it from the blood of a native avian. Like a blood pudding? Mixed with peat-berry leaf. Go on. Take it. You'll see. Word has it a falleen dared a human to eat some, the human loved it, and it turned into a game of making people believe you enough to try it, until the whole of Ord Mantell was pretty infatuated with it.'

'It sounds fascinating,' Thrawn said, 'but I must admit it fails to convince me.' 

The woman laughed again and ate the offending foodstuff, grinning as she chewed to prove her point. She turned back to the table and kept filling the two shallow bowls she was readying for them. She explained the origins and content of her selections, and why she left some behind, or paired others. Thrawn paced alongside her, hands behind his back, as if surveying her work, nodding along.   
He could feel the stares directed at them and imagined the rumour mill would be working hard if they stayed together much longer, but he did not mind. If you minded human gossip you were in a world of trouble. He wondered idly though, if this could have nefarious repercussion on the _non practising exosociobiologist_ , and whatever her actual job was. She seemed sharp enough to come to her own conclusions, so he said nothing, enjoying her didactic culinary monologue and following her out in search of good seats.   
They passed under one of the many arches on the West side of the room. There were fewer people there, walking along the open corridor or sitting on large marble benches and enjoying the red rays of the still stubbornly setting sun.   
Kaiden walked them to one such bench where two men in black uniforms were chatting animatedly. 

Thrawn realised what she intended too late to stop it:

She cleared her throat. 

The young men turned around, looked at her, frowned, then past her and up, at Thrawn and his insignia and white uniform. Their eyebrows shot up and they scrambled to get up and away.

'Wow, I can't believe that worked,' Kaiden laughed.

'What? Abuse of power?'

'I only cleared my throat!' She protested. She put the bowls down and sat herself with an air of deep satisfaction. 

They ate companionably for a while, exchanging comments on the flavours she had chosen, what fit his taste and what didn't, and her nodding along as if she were assembling a basic guide of the chiss palate.

'All right,' she said at last, 'What do you want to know? Why I took you to dance?'

'We can start there.'

'Well, the governor was coming to us.'

'Governor Fame? Why is that a problem?'

'Renri invited me here to help him. Mostly to stay out of the dances, but also to stay out of trouble. You're trouble already, but at least you're just passing through. Ohtee Fame though...' She shrugged. 'In all honesty I couldn't be bothered. I didn't come here for politics. I'd have excused myself if I had hope you'd let us go, but that seemed unlikely.'

He would have to greet the governor before the evening was over, but he could understand some civilian not wanting to be there for the occasion. The major however...

'I think you're misunderstanding things regarding Renri,' Maiya said, as if reading the look on his face. 'Renri was not particularly happy about being made major. I think he's terrified that your attention might backfire in some way. His boss, commander Unmi–I don't know her first name–she's got a reputation. She's in charge of the research centre. The one located on Padar proper, not the deepdocks.'

Thrawn nodded. 'I was meant to meet her yesterday, and somehow that got put off. I was hoping to meet her here, to be perfectly honest.'

'I haven't seen her yet, and maybe she won't come down, if she's trying to avoid you.' Kaiden chuckled. 'At any rate I don't think she's the one you need. The other commander, Sid Park, he's the one in charge of the deepdocks, right? Him and Unmi are well known for arguing when they bump into each other in Padar. I can tell you where to go to try and ambush them if you'd like.'

'Ambush them? Yes. If I do not get answers tonight, it might be necessary. You do not mean their private residence on Padar, do you?'

'No, I wouldn't know that. The place I'm thinking of is the Decoy on 1st esplanade. Renri avoids it like the plague because his boss is always there. It is popular with all the senior officers, and even the station director is a known patron. Sid Park and his cronies go to the Green Faleen on 3rd esplanade.'

'How do you know this?'

'Because of my job. I run into the owner of the Decoy way more often than I'd like, and she makes sure everyone knows about her patronage.'

'I see. Is she important herself, within the ecosystem of the station?'

'I don't know about importance. Self-importance however I can guarantee.'

'So what is it that you do exactly, miss not-exosociobiologist, acquaintance of cantina owners?' 

'Why don't you come and find out? There's a Zunzu console there, and you're welcome in at any time so long as the door opens on its own. If it won't, I'm sleeping.' 

She handed him a small card, made out of thick flimsi and printed with a name in togruta script and an address on the 2nd esplanade. A visiting card for a shop or service provider of some sort. 

'I'm sorry I don't have any left in basic. But you're a gambling man, aren't you? You don't need explanations to be tempted into visiting, right?'

'All strategies have an element of chance to them. A warrior always considers the odds carefully. But I would not call myself a _gambling man_.'

'And yet you go to work and gamble your life on the orders of your superiors, and that of your subordinates on the soundness of your own.'

'Now you are twisting things with... "Semantics" I think is the word. Besides, the perk of being a Grand Admiral is that there are very few people capable of giving me orders in this galaxy.'

'You come if you dare then.'

Thrawn put a hand to his mouth to hide the toothy grin that had appeared there quite unbidden. She was challenging him through arrogance and it was working. He wanted to play her to crush her, to call her bluff. He put the card away, and for a moment lost himself in thought, parsing and storing away the information she had gifted him.

The sun, finally overcome by the slow planetary rotation, dipped beyond the horizon and tinted the world with a deep purplish light. Maiya Kaiden sighed. He looked at her, and wondered at the longing in her face. She looked back knowingly.

'You're fine,' she said. 'It's the sun finally setting. It makes me miss my blanket.'

Thrawn frowned. 'Are you cold?' The evening air was bordering on uncomfortably warm for him. She shook her head, her white braids swinging with the gesture. 

'I can't remember what the reasons were, but the colony I grew up in was near the South pole of the planetoid we settled on. The seasons were short so it wasn't too bad, but it was cold, and the winters were pitch black.' She looked back towards the horizon, though her sight was probably set on a different one. 'The cold was hard for my father and for me too, but mother was mostly fine. Everyone coped with it differently, but we all disliked the darkness. It's weird not to be able to move, when you realise the weather just doesn't do it for you. When the sun came back over the horizon for the first time at the end of winter, the entire colony would gather and celebrate, two hundred people around a big bonfire and all, waiting for these five minutes of sunlight.  
'After that, my family would sit outside our home every day, on a little natural stone bench a lot like this one. I'd be on my father's lap and we'd be cocooned in this huge fleece blanket. My mother would laugh at us... We'd look at the sun rise and set, a little slower every time.  
'That blanket, it's the only thing I have left from my time there. But nowadays I don't get to see the sun rise or set. And when I do, on days like today... I can't help but wonder when it'll rise again.'

It was a sharing of a memory, artless and unabashed. Thrawn felt the intimacy of it, and considered his scant knowledge of togruta customs. They likely were more prone to such candidness than the chiss, yet somehow it felt wrong to not reciprocate. He reached in his own memories of sunset, to retrieve something he could share in return.

'I was also born on one of our colonies, though well established,' he said, meeting her steely eyes. 'It was an icy ocean world, and though we were around the tropics, the temperatures were chilly, even for us. My mother, she–' he paused, hesitating over his words. 'When I was a child, she sometimes would come home and find me studying in the same way she had left me. She would force me out of the house then. Say I needed to get some air before the sun set, not believing me if I told her I had been out during her absence. So I would complain of the cold and she would make me a cup of a tea named... "spice-leaf" is how you would call it in basic. She would give it to me, and say I had no excuses now.  
I would take my steaming cup to our little garden and sit on the low stone wall that went around it, sip my spiceleaf tea, feel it warm me through even as the sun disappeared and the temperatures dropped. Of course, my mother would then yell for me to come back inside.'

'Sounds like mothers are the same everywhere.'

'When I went on to military school, it became a habit, to take a break in the evening and drink a cup of spiceleaf. Though the sunset was not always there for me either.'

'The rituals ingrained in us as children are important,' Kaiden said, smiling at him. The melancholy had gone from her face, and he found himself curiously relieved, as if the sharing of stories had lifted a weight off of him he hadn't known was there.   
He might have thanked her. He had an inkling that she knew, somehow. But there was only so much a chiss could open up about to a stranger.

'Time for us to head back inside,' he said instead, 'and find out what happened to our respective partners.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your patience with this! I spent way too many hours working on chapter 4 instead of this one... So the good news is, chapter 4 should come in shortly, and chapter 5 will have the first of the games you clicked on this fic to see! Thanks for sticking with me so far, I've been really blown away by the hits, excited comments and kind kudos.  
> Again it's my first fic and my first time stringing this many chapters in a row in any work, so y'all are making this one hell of a lovely experience.  
> You go and have a fabulous day/night, and I'll see you soon.


	4. Tears and laughter

It was almost midnight, Padar day-shift time, when Maiya keyed the Keykaf's door open and stepped inside. She'd just made her way to the counter when two bright orbs lit up from the shadows.

'Mistress!'

'Stars, BT!' Maiya exclaimed. 'Don't frighten me like that!'

'I'm very sorry, I was getting worried!' 

'You should have just gone to sleep. I told you I was going planetside, didn't I?'

'Yes you did, and I know I shouldn't worry. I'm not _programmed to worry_ , but I don't seem to be able to help myself, past the fifth hour mark.'

'It's alright,' Maiya sighed, 'if my father couldn't cure you of that, there's nothing either of us can do about it.'

'Was your evening enjoyable?'

'Mmhmm. Very interesting, at least.'

'Good. But it's very late, I'll make you a cup of moka.'

Maiya did not protest. Moka was a cold herbal infusion often made to ease stress, and she suspected the act of brewing it soothed BT's processors as much as it soothed the drinker's nerves. She left the droid clattering behind the counter and went up the narrow stairs that led to the upper floor and private quarters.

Maiya stepped into the loft, a quiet _'I'm home'_ dying on her lips. The windows were polarized, as she had left them that morning, filtering the station's ever-bright lights to a synthetic dusk. She kicked off her shoes, shimmied out of her dress and climbed onto the raised platform that took up half of the room. With one hand she grabbed her fleece blanket and with the other one of the strings that held back the curtains. With a heavy swish, the black fabric unfurled, bringing some actual darkness to the room. She did not bother to free the other half. That way, the dim light that still cut through the room hit her mother's favourite mobile, scattering through the opalescent shards of glass.

She sat down, busying herself with undoing her braids and arranging the many pillows around the platform, building a nest for herself. It had been an excellent evening. She'd had such fun... Too much fun. So much that she wanted to _share_. She wanted to stand and repeat the steps of the dance as she depicted the handsome alien she'd met. She wanted to describe Renri's discomfiture, and recall her challenge and the way it had very nearly made that admiral flush.   
Then father would laugh and slap her arm excitedly, and mother would worry, ask if that was all very safe, to rile up such a powerful man. Maiya would tell the pantoran joke then, and even her cautious mother would laugh. They would all laugh together.

But there was no one left now to laugh with, just the prismatic rays of light on the walls, the blanket around her, and the faded memories of days past. Maiya fell back onto her pile of cushions. She could feel the happiness drain out of her, like blood flowing from a wound too deep for her clumsy hands to quench. Her eyes welled up too, and there was no staunching that either.  
She didn't sob. It was an old wound, well scabbed over. She knew, deep down, that this was the result of stress build-up from paying off the loan on the cafe. From poisoned freedom that demanded choices and decisions she was loath to make. It would pass, as all things did. She wrapped her blanket tighter and sniffled.

'Mistress?' BT's voice called out from the staircase. 'Are you already asleep?'

'No, no, come on up.'

'Sitting in the dark? Can I put on the lights?'

'Suit yourself.'

Maiya buried her face into a cushion with a groan at the sudden brightness. BT walked in, a mug in one of her eight-fingered hands. She stopped in the middle of the room and looked down at Maiya, rolled up like a pipiya wrap in her blanket, feet and face poking out of each end. 

'Are you moping?' BT asked.

Maiya gaped. 'Who in icy hell taught you that word?'

'Miss Pyla. She said to make you call her if I saw you mope.'

'Did she now? I didn't know you were on talking terms with her.'

'I am not, but she doesn't need my permission to talk to me.'

'Clearly not,' Maiya said, sitting up and reaching out for the mug.

'She said moping was a sign that you needed her.'

'And how did she describe 'moping' to you?'

'Listless attitude, tears optional, sullen comments or stubborn silence guaranteed.'

'A wonder you don't badger me to call her more often then,' Maiya grimaced.

'She said to check for red eyes too.'

Maiya snorted, remembering the chiss and his red eyes, the sclera as if suffused with blood, the iris only just outlined by its luminescence, so vivid it made the pupil seem washed out pink.

'Are you lonely, mistress?'

'Yes. And I was very successful at it too, until you crashed in with a cup of moka.'

'You're welcome. Miss Pyla also said to make you call her if you ever admitted to feeling lonely.'

'Damn it BT but who do you work for?'

'My master did not– My master– The ma–'

'Do you mean Atawai?'

'Yes...' The droid paused, grateful, before starting over in the same tone of dogmatic confidence. 'Master Atawai did not program me only to make kaf. My care instructions lead me to pay close attention to friends' advice.'

'Fine, consider your care effective,' Maiya said, getting up and shooing BT away, 'I have my moka and I'll call Pyla now, if she's still awake, she can help me with my _moping_.'

She closed the door behind BT and grabbed her home datapad. Still, she hesitated before making the call. 

Pyla, as fiercely independent as any zabrak Maiya had ever come to know, was very closemouthed about her job. She'd explained she "worked security", never caring to elaborate if that meant walking around the docks with a stun blaster on her hip, or devising and maintaining security software for a private company. It was clear at any rate that sometimes her morning meat bun was actually her diner, and some other days her breakfast. Maiya didn't prod and didn't care.   
Pyla had strolled up to her one early morning five years ago as she was arguing with a combative gran freighter captain at the docks. The captain refused to deliver her cargo of Shili kaf beans for the agreed upon price, under the pretence that it had been negotiated by her father, and if Atawai Kaiden was not in business any more, then the contract needed to be drawn again.  
Maiya had been very close to losing her temper and stabbing him in his third eye when Pyla had stepped in and somehow made the gran change his tune without violence.  
She'd helped a nonplussed Maiya load her boxes, driven with her back to the cafe, helped her unload, accepted a free bun and drink and disappeared into the crowd with a small wave and a promise to 'come and check out' the place when it was open.   
Maiya, privately deciding that the next person to bad mouth zabraks in earshot of her would get the punch the gran had escaped from, was truly grateful to the stranger, and thrilled when she had showed up the next morning, and nearly every one after that.  
Pyla had been a real support almost from the start of the haphazard adventure taking over the Keykaf had turned out to be. Maiya considered her a friend. But they came from different cultures, and she did not want to overstep boundaries that the zabrak might not be comfortable with. 

_Well, she's asked for this. I'll give her a good story..._

She couldn't know if she'd be up or not, but she could always leave a message. Maybe something along the lines of _'Stop subverting my droid, I have a right to mope in my own bed'._  
The call was almost immediately answered, Pyla's tattooed face and bright yellow eyes coming into sharp focus. 

'Maiya? What's up? Any trouble tonight?'

Maiya breathed in deeply, keeping her face studiously neutral.

'I've got a name and rank for you.'

Pyla swore in her colourful and somewhat guttural Zabraki dialect. 'Give it to me,' she growled in basic.

 _Then_ Maiya smiled, but again, studiously. A prim little thing, thin lipped and narrow-eyed. _Malicious_.

'A certain Mitth'raw'nuruodo? Said to call him Thrawn. _Grand Admiral_. I presume he can be found on his ship, the ISD Chimaera? He's a "Chiss"... Like a huh–'she giggled, incapable of keeping her glee in check–'like a... pantoran with an eye condition!'

She'd expected more zabraki swearing but instead got a high pitched 'you're fucking kidding me aren't you?' and Maiya tipped over the edge and into hysterical laugher. 

'Noooo,' she wailed 'I _swear_! I challenged him to a game too. You should have seen his face!'

'You did what?!'

Maiya brushed away her tears, wheezing. She described the way he had accosted them and bothered Renri until she'd decided to step in.

'Very strange fellow really,' she said, 'anyway, what can you tell me about him? Do you think you'll manage to cut his fingers?'

'What can I tell you? Girl! You do your own research!'

Maiya clicked her tongue.

'Don't tssk me, It's not gonna be hard.' Pyla muttered something under her breath about sheltered scholars and then, 'he's capital F Famous. Lots of Fs in his resume. Fastest to make it to grand admiral. First alien to make it past lieutenant–'

'He's also very _Fexy_...' Maiya butted in, and all sense was lost in the conversation for some more time.

'Seriously, look him up,' Pyla said when they were both back to breathing normally and in no danger of peeing themselves. 'I can't believe you've challenged the grand admiral of the seventh fleet to a _game of zunzu_. Worst is I can't even guess who'll win. And you can forget about your fingers. I'd probably be dead before I could get a hold of his fingernail clippings.'

'So he's famous,' Maiya said, 'that's all the better for me. If he comes he'll be indulging a little mid-rim bumpkin. He might even not go for his best lay-out, thinking he can afford to give me a chance. Pyla, I'm getting excited.'

'If? You didn't agree on a date?'

'No, just gave him one of my cards.'

The zabrak disappeared from the screen, grunting loudly. 

'I can't believe this. I can't believe YOU. No date? How am I supposed to know when to come and see this?'

'Heh, you can bet I'll set the console to recording.'

'Not that... Sure I'll want to see the game, but I want to see his face, when he realises what he's bitten down on. Or yours, for that matter, if you're being a little arrogant twirp.'

'Do I sound so over confident? I suppose I might... Don't I have the history to back it up though?'

Pyla came back into frame, an intense air about her. 'I'm kind of jealous of you,' she said. 'The way you're just cruising through life. You seem to be able to take everything in stride. A grand admiral walks by? Harass him about his origins. Man indulges you? Trick him into a war game... I just wish I could blaze through life the way you do.' 

'That sounds a little insensitive,' Maiya said in a serious tone. 'I had my instructions. Renri wanted to avoid getting pulled into mischief, and that's what I did. I was just helping the best I could.'

Pyla regarded her, and the two women were silent for a moment starring at each other across their datapads.

'What? You're gonna be serious now and tell me what really went on?'

'I was being serious! I did omit the part where I led Thrawn through a dance–'

'A dance?'

'Yes. See, Fame was coming for us. Yes, the governor. I figured taking the admiral for a spin was the best way to foil him. As I said, mischief–'

'What else are you failing to mention here?'

'Ah, I tried to feed him a peat-sausage too, though he refused...' Maiya laughed again at the memory of the alien's serious face crumpling in frank disgust. 

Pyla made a strangled noise, but Maiya went on.

'I think he enjoyed the teasing!'

'You think?'

'Is that sarcasm?'

'To be honest I'm not even sure at this point. Did you not stop to consider that maybe challenging a GA and all that... Well, didn't it seem like your fun might not be entirely harmless?'

'Of course I did. I considered the situation as carefully as I ever do, if not more. And I chose the lesser evil. I certainly could have handled things differently. Keep my mouth shut and just turn into a _'multicultural sculpt of a bored woman'_ while the lads talked shop and my ears eroded off my head. But I was very aware of Renri's position–'

'You think I'm worried about Renri? It's almost like you don't know me!'

'You knowing an imperial navy grand admiral by name is like I don't know you! Seriously, since when do you care enough for that?'

Pyla backed off from her screen, and put her chin in her hand, covering most of her mouth, and here it was, the crossing of a boundary. Simply not one Maiya had expected. She felt the length of her friend's silence, two seconds too long, registered the change in her tone, the cant of her eyebrows. She had touched a sore spot. 

'Everyone ought to know the alien GA of the 7th. Anyone who keeps half an eye on galactic politics, anyway. I suppose I'm more informed there than you are.'

Maiya accepted the answer graciously. Whatever Pyla's beef with the empire, it was a complicated one, and it was her own business. 

'I only read the scientific reviews out of Corruscant and the Kaf brewer's review out of Corvala.'

'I would bet a thousand creds you also subscribe to shady zunzu publications.' 

Maiya shrugged. 

'I can't reveal anything to you, I'm sorry. Until I've successfully defeated you, you remain a potential threat to me on the board.'

It was Pyla's turn to laugh. Maiya smiled, pleased with her diversion's success, and with her decision of calling on her friend.   
Yet the secrecy Pyla shrouded herself in kept Maiya in check: she would not mention the more intimate conversations she'd had with admiral Thrawn.   
Such things were genuine _chips_ , to be used with intent.  
Information management was the bread and butter of the zunzu player. Maiya felt the faintest tinge of disgust with herself for calibrating such elements of her life; judging her actions like tactical placements on a grid, but it was not a trait she had inherited from playing the game. It was a trait she'd brought to the game, that had made her good at it. Her mind lacked the social spontaneousness that led so many to speak brashly or give themselves away with emotions or over-sharing.   
Maiya's own mind was gated, filtered, always questing forward for the most beneficial course of actions.  
The best one right now was to end the conversation here, on a lighter note. 

'At any rate,' she said, 'I'm glad to hear you are so worried for me. There is nothing to be afraid of however. The worst threat to me and my cafe at the moment is the subversion of my droid and only staff!'

'Oh,' Pyla said with genuine surprise, 'did my suggestion work? Were you feeling lonely?' 

Maiya shook her head. 

'Just a little blue. Had too much fun and no one to share it with. BT caught me pouting. Calling you was a good move, but you can't go around putting ideas in BT's head. You have no idea how neurotic she can get.'

'No, I don't!' Pyla laughed, 'she still won't talk to me.'

'Don't take it personally.'

The droid had issues, but Maiya wasn't one for finger pointing, and like Keykaf, she had inherited BT in a certain state and intended to keep her that way. It was how her father would have wanted it. The two women chatted a little longer before Pyla pointed out the hour and excused herself. 

'I won't be in tomorrow, I am off for a little tour because of work. It's unexpected, but nothing I can do about it. I'll be back in two days though, and in time for that epic game, I hope.'

'I guess we'll see!' Maiya smiled. _And what a thing to look forward to._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah I'm giving data pads the ability to skype... It's cannon Thrawn prefers "video" over holo, and holo is a fad due to the emperor apparently... so aye, sue me. 
> 
> Also this was edited and posted after 4am here so off to die like a man now~
> 
> P.S : Next chapter is the game. Yes. And instead of working ahead on it, I've worked on a 3D render of a zunzu console. So I guess I'm making my own fanart? I'm a multitalented dork, what can I say?  
> Anyway, I hope it won't be much more than a week before I'm able to publish it, but please bear with me!


	5. Fog Of War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first of the games you clicked on the damn fic for. Prefaced with a render of what a zunzu console looks like. Done in Blender.

Maiya's personal Zunzu console : 

This side has Thrawn's name on the screen in SW script, because I'm a power nerd.

Maiya's side.

The pieces in this self made fan art do not reflect the game described this chapter.

* * *

_**Huugens manoeuvre** _

~

_An opening layout where the bases are kept in a convoy and attackers net in enemy pieces in a shrinking cone of fire.  
_ _Most popular during the 900s and 800s BBY - [outdated]_

_The **Reverse Huugens** \- also known as the **Spearhead** , is a high risk, high reward opening in which the attackers are deployed as ancillaries to the base convoy. Such a move can penetrate deep within fog of war. If the spearhead makes it past the enemy lines, results can be devastating.  
_

* * *

Maiya Kaiden's information had proven correct.   
A trip to the Green Falleen on the evening following the ball had netted them an excellent catch, including, and not limited to, commander Sid Park. The man had babbled anxiously as he was dragged back on to the Chimaera, and once there, had caved in as swiftly as a sheet of overnight frost; excuses and tales of political rivalry and delayed works pouring out of him. Thrawn had turned on his heels and walked out, disgusted, trusting the entire situation to Vanto.   
He was, after all, supposed to be on _holidays_. He'd gathered some civilian clothes and his personal datapad before taking the lifts up to the station proper and the second esplanade where lodgings could be rented. He'd picked a comfortable apartment with a small galley and bay windows and settled for the first night of rest he'd enjoyed in a long while. He had resisted the temptation to keep working or reach out to Vanto to make sure all was well. Instead he had ordered in some droid delivered food – grateful to the Kaiden woman for her sampling course at the ball – and settled in for a quiet evening. He'd awoken feeling both well rested and _curious_.

So Thrawn, who figured he must be a gambling man after all, had set off for the address the woman had left him without bothering to look it up. He liked the idea of a surprise, though not so much that he had not explored the station and its various levels first.

He now made his way through the jostling crowds of the second esplanade at a brisk pace, looking around him as he went with more curiosity than he had anticipated. He found that Padar station was rather beautiful, as such places went, once you left the docks and lower levels and their utilitarian designs.  
The three esplanades, which were the social and commercial heart of the station, were arranged in open, terraced decks, under a wide transparisteel ceiling of awesome proportions that let in the light of Bright Jewel, the system's sun. The higher up you went, the more sunlight, and the more plants, arrayed in small gardens and hanging displays along walls and bridges, alien blooms revealing the colourful patterns of clever gardeners.   
The bottom floor was reserved for transport and traffic, buzzing with small speeders and droid driven taxicars. The one that opened above it was the third esplanade: the widest but also the darkest, it contained shops, from mechanics to grocers, and night clubs and cantinas that benefited from more artificial lighting.   
The Second esplanade opened over it with bustling pedestrian thoroughfares and smaller shops and cafes. There were also more of the plants that were common place in the lush top-most deck.

He came to a halt in front of a long building hugging the edge of the esplanade, checked the card, looked up again for confirmation... This was really it. 

And it was a _cafe_. The name, written in basic over the door, read Keykaf. 

He stepped up to the windows, pulling his hood a little tighter around his face, his eyes shielded by green glasses, and peered inside.   
There were about twenty tables, fitting two to four people. Most of them appeared to be dejarik or zunzu consoles or simpler solid tops with lines and squares etched into them to allow for cards or chess games. Most of the clientele was alien and the decor was unmistakably togruta.   
He spied Kaiden, half hidden by a tall chagrian talking to her animatedly. An odd droid worked behind the counter next to them.  
Thrawn walked in. A soft bell chimed, but few customers glanced his way, engrossed in games or conversations as they were.

'Oh! So you were in Brentaal!' Kaiden was saying to the chagrian, 'honestly I was getting worried Penmuir, I thought you might have given up and spaced yourself!'

'In your dreams! I was actually busy _winning_ the Brentaal pre-masters.'

'I knew you had it in you honestly, you're so persistent! But Coruscant won't be the same...'

The chagrian chuckled and waved a purplish hand.

'You doubt me much, but I've been practicing hard. I've read all of the kifus in last year's grand masters! I'm ready, and _you_ have been out of the masters for far too long. I will bring it back, and then you'll have no choice but to play me again.'

Kaiden shrugged, then glanced at Thrawn, probably confused by a new customer just standing there instead of sitting himself. Her face lit up when she recognised him, and a bright, toothy smile stretched the ochre lines across her cheeks.  
She turned back to the chagrian and patted his arm.

'Don't you think you should be off to study now? I think in your case, every minute counts. If you're to snatch that title...'

Her voice dripped with playful contempt, but the chagrian only laughed and shook his head. Clearly this was a routine between them.

'I'll crush them, you'll see.'

'I believe you mean to, but you know the dangers of bragging.'

Her face smoothed, her tone was much more serious when she spoke next, but the words were in a language Thrawn did not recognise. Togruti, he suspected, though it could have been Chagri. A gap in knowledge he intended to remedy soon.   
The chagrian smiled, pleased, and with a final 'count the days, Kaiden! I'll message you from Corruscant!' left the cafe. 

The human sauntered up to him, beaming. 

'You came after all!'

'You... own a cafe,' he said, realising a little too late that was not the best way to start this conversation. 

'And you own a pair of working eyes,' she retorted. 

Her tone retained some of the mockery she'd shown the chagrian, but her expression was amused. Thrawn smiled back at her, pleased. Of course, if she could be brazen at the governor's mansion, she'd be just as confident in her own domain.

'It is unexpected. An odd choice of career, I suppose, for an _exosociobiologist_.'

'It wasn't planned, but I can't complain. Here, sit yourself, I'll have BT make a cup of kaf for you. How do you take it?'

'Kaf?' He asked, sitting himself at the zunzu console she had led him to. It had a glass panel magnetically locked to the top, protecting the holographic nibs from spilled drinks and crumbs. 'I don't think the navy offers enough of a choice for me to have an actual preference. I suppose you can make me your best.'

'No, I don't think so,' she said, 'from what I gathered, you don't have a sweet tooth, and our best is the iconic creamy kaf popular in Corvala. It's _very_ sweet. But I can think of something you might like. First one on the house, after that it's cold hard imperial credits.'

Thrawn nodded a silent approval. However she didn't move and stood by the table, arms akimbo, looking down at him and chewing on her lip.

'Are you just passing by, or here for a game?'

'If you'll indulge me.'

She grinned. 'I hoped you would be the one indulging me. Excellent! However...' she edged closer to him, lowering her voice, 'I haven't played anyone in a while, so I think it'd be best if we play after I've closed. Is that alright with you? It's an hour away.'

Thrawn frowned. Was she afraid her customers might see her flounder? 

'It would make a crowd,' she explained, seeing his confusion, 'and I'd never be able to close the shop. Games can keep the place running very late, and I suspect you're one to put up a decent fight. We'd both benefit from this first game being a private one, don't you think?'

This made her sound like a celebrity, he thought. And depending on the level of local players, she might very well be one. He nodded magnanimously. He didn't mind privacy, and had plenty to read on his datapad to make an hour go by. 

'I believe you know your cafe best, miss Kaiden–'

'Maiya. Please. If I get to call you by a nickname, you should at least use my given name.'

Thrawn was about to explain the concept of core names, but stopped himself short at the glimmer in her eyes. It was a ploy to make him spill more clues and information about his culture. 

'Very well, _Maiya_ ,' he said instead, delighting in her vexed pout, 'I'll trust you once more, and shall be in your care.'

When Kaiden– Maiya, he corrected himself, turned around, she called out to the droid behind the counter in Togruti. The droid flashed its eyes and set to work without acknowledging the order any further. It was an oddity, Thrawn thought, terribly patchworked. The head and torso seemed to have come from an old protocol droid, reskinned, but the arms were of a design unknown to him, bare-bones, with bundles of cables and wires zip-locked to the skeletal armature. Each hand had eight fingers, five with rubber-padded tips and the rest clearly some sort of tools.   
The legs and hips were a design ripped right off of an imperial security droid, but a four hundred credit version, maybe put together by some inspired mechanic working from a scrapyard.

Thrawn thanked it when it brought him a steaming cup. Again however the droid simply flashed its eyes and returned to its position behind the kaf machine.  
He filed his questions away and settled in, feigning to browse his datapad but mostly observing the cafe and its occupants.   
Maiya busied herself taking in credits, cleaning, typing away at her till, and most of all, talking to customers. Everyone who came in, whether to play or buy a drink to take away, seemed to be part of a tight-knit community. Rare were the patrons who did not know someone in the room by name, or greet Maiya personally. When two togruta men walked in, some joyous conversation started along with an awful lot of hugging and close contact.  
These customers had the droid serve their drinks in metal canteens they carried at their belts. These would hold three time the amount he was sipping on... Clearly togrutas took their kaf seriously.

Thrawn looked down at his own mug. The drink's taste was not entirely different from what he'd grown used to aboard his ship or during long nights at the academy, but while that had been a bitter affair, this had a mellowness to it that allowed him to appreciate multiple flavours, beyond "burnt kaf bean". 

Maiya started to shut down the gaming tables that freed up, and refused to let new games start. When she closed the doors behind the last customer, she let out a little sigh and turned to Thrawn, grinning again. 

'Thank you for your patience!'

He shook his head. The hour had gone by fast enough. 

'Do you want another drink, before BT cleans the machine?'

'More of the same would be lovely,' he said, addressing the droid directly. When it nodded silently, he turned back to Maiya. 'Does it not talk at all?'

'Mra menpay BT,' she called out, and sitting herself down across the table from Thrawn: 'I like the Corvala sweetness overdose myself. Maybe you can have a taste of it if you're curious. And no, BT can speak, though most customers wouldn't know that. She only talks to her masters as a rule, though she's taken a shine to some other people over time and gifted them with a few words.'

Thrawn frowned. 'That sounds inconvenient. Have you not tried a memory wipe?'

Maiya pondered the question. She wasn't looking for an answer, but rather deciding what to share and how. He was starting to get a read on her. He waited silently as she made up her mind. 

'My parents took turns joining research expeditions even after they bought the cafe. My father bought BT during one such trip to Ithor. She had been in a crash with her previous owner, who did not survive. She was about to be scrapped, she already refused to talk to anyone, and what use is a silent protocol droid, right? Father returned with just her head and torso and fixed her up.' She shrugged. 'I never had much of an interest in kaf, and it looked like I could be headed off to a Corruscant university anyway. Father put it in his head that he could tinker her program to help her learn to make kaf, take over the business with him. He _loved_ playing around with programming. By then she had warmed up to us enough to talk, and it was like he'd gotten a nyuk pup. Or a second child, actually.' She tapped her chest. 'I'm still the eldest mind you.'

A loud clanking sound came from the counter. Maiya smiled but did not turn to look.

'When my parents died five years ago, I inherited BT with the shop. I never planned to, to begin with, to honour my father, but wiping her memory is not an option any more anyway. She was his student after all. She's the one who knows how to make proper kaf. I barely manage ordering the beans in!'

'I'm sorry to hear both your parents have passed away. May I ask how?'

'They were flying out of a system on a shuttle. It got in the cross-hairs of a battle with some insurgent cell. Stray shot.'

Thrawn expressed his condolences while mentally jumping back five years. What ship had he been on, what insurrection had he put down that year? Could he ever have made a difference, if he had been there? The galaxy was too vast, and still so unruly.  
His own goals were sketched on grand scales, aiming to help many, a faceless crowd living in peace and prosperity. His motivations were not fuelled by any one individual's happiness. Yet seeing Maiya put up a brave face as she recounted her parents' demise at the hand of imperial navy failure to protect its people, he felt a sting of frustration. The droid came in with the two new mugs, and patted Maiya's shoulder before turning away. Thrawn had the distinct impression the droid had stared at him a little too intently.

Fine, he'd change the topic. 

'Shall we start this game? I have great expectations for you, after your bold assertions at Fame's party.'

'I'll try my best!'

That was a change of tune, Thrawn thought, wondering if she was jesting. 

'Are we playing with fog of war?' She asked. 'If you don't mind I'd also like to record.'

Thrawn considered the question. Fog of war was a haze set through the middle of the grid during the first pieces setting phase of the game. It let the players deploy a starting layout secretly, and disappeared after a set amount of turns, or when pieces came within a certain range. It was usually omitted when teaching, or as a handicap in case of serious imbalance between players.   
He did not think she meant to insult him. Her expression was guileless. But he also did not believe she was asking for a handicap for herself.   
It was politeness then. She was ready to accommodate him whatever he chose. 

'I do not mind a recording. Depending on how the game goes, I might even want a copy of it myself. And I would rather we play with fog of war. Competitive rules are fine with me.'

Maiya booted the console, setting her mug on the small strip of table not completely taken over by the bulky machine, and started typing in the game settings.

'No clock,' she intoned, 'fog countdown to eight turns, unlimited placements, six points of handicap to Blue. No preset bases, all pieces set to competition baselines. Ready to go.'

With a shimmer, the blue grid materialised and obscured itself, creating a thick screen of white haze between them. He could barely see her any more. Buttons came up to life, orange and green and yellow. The screen flickered on, asked him to type in his name, for the record. 

_Thrawn_ , he keyed in.

'Are you good to go?' Maiya asked from behind the holographic fog. 

'Yes.'

'Then good hunting to you.'

* * *

  
Thrawn looked at the cleared up grid, his eyes unfocused as he pondered the catastrophe before him. The ships drifted ever so slowly across the console space between Maiya and himself. He could see her fully now, starring back, her eyes glinting, the shadow of a wry smile dancing over an otherwise expressionless face. 

'This positioning...' he murmured.

'A reverse Huugens manoeuvre. A little bit of a private joke in memory of our first meeting. The placement itself is pure dumb luck. You're right handed and so I assumed that no matter your spread, you'd at least start close to the right side of the board.' Her smile bloomed, rapacious. 'I figured if I somehow misread you completely and flew right through you, I'd be able to swing around and take you from behind.' She winked and laid back in her chair, her eyes never leaving his face.

All her base ships were placed in a tight convoy, strung out one behind the other. Her attackers were placed as auxiliaries to the bases, ready to fan out and ravage his own ships, taken unaware and too spread out. The needle-like formation she had created had penetrated deep within the fog of war without triggering by proximity until far too late, permitting her to emerge almost in the middle of his own formation.

Thrawn started putting in his input carefully, taking his time to bring his ships in the best defence pattern he could muster at such close quarters.  
He hummed as he typed in commands and punched through readouts. When he had played the game against Eli, he had noticed that the lack of resources provided by the limits of each simulated ship had enabled someone with less experience of command to engage in the game without being flooded by information. In that respect it was amateur friendly. Yet for someone like himself, the game comparatively gave him both too much and too little. He was used to more extensive resources, but also to competent staff filtering the information to him and taking independent action. While that handicap had allowed Vanto to compete with him in a way that had made it fun for the both of them, it now played vastly against him as he faced an opponent who obviously had a perfect understanding of both the flow of the game and the abilities of each piece. He knew the sensation growing in him to be one of pleasure, as arising from a serious challenge.

He tapped the button that signalled the end of his turn, and settled to observe Maiya through hers. She was starring at her convoy, thoughtful. Her face betrayed no emotions. She did not twitch, her eyes hardly moved, and she sat in the same position she'd taken to observe him. Finally she jerked upright, and in a loud voice that almost startled him, called out her droid.

'No need for more kaf now, BT, battle is about to start,'

Thrawn glanced at the counter to see the droid throw its hands up in the air and walk away from the kaf machine. When he looked back, Maiya was typing her own instructions, set her newest piece right behind his lines, and went back to observing him.

No matter how far he pushed his ships, the battle would start on her next turn. She was perfectly placed _and_ timed. Depending how the battle proceeded, he might lose the entire quadrant. He stared at her, awe and frustration swirling in a pleasant cocktail of emotions. Her silver grey eyes looked back, faint amusement set in the lines around them, though her mouth was neutral, her jaw slack, her skin without flush, her throat and chest betraying no disturbed breathing. 

He recognised the careful and effortless mask he had spied for a few steps during their dance on Ord Mantell. Gone were the happy smiles, the fun moues and grimaces. She did not brag or relish her superior positioning either. She simply turned into a sculpt, one that could breathe and blink, and might have been titled "The Serene Tactician".

Thrawn realised then, he'd sat down for a game, and ended up in warfare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your patience. Special love to Vince, who thought the fic would open with the game and got tricked reading 4.5 chapters of ballroom dancing and sunset memories. xD
> 
> Anyway, I hope you're all still enjoying the ride! All your support so far has made this a total trip, I'm really excited to go on with you all... I think I can promise chapter 6 very soon, as it's going to be a short Vanto PoV, but full disclaimer, I've got almost no notes for the couple next chapters, just ideas and bits and pieces. So I might take a little longer than usual. 
> 
> Though hey, I birthed half of this child between midnight and 5am just now (dying like men in 1min!!), so who knows...


	6. Tickled Purple

Eli walked into Thrawn's office, nose in his datapad, and started at the realisation that someone was already there.  
It was Thrawn, dressed in some rough civvies and browsing holographic databases. Well, of course it was. Who else would dare lurk in the dark in the Grand Admiral's office but the Grand Admiral himself? But Thrawn was supposed to be on holidays, and coming back after _one day_ was just too fast. 

'Are you alright sir?' Eli asked, striding forward.

Thrawn didn't answer or react, his hands were busy typing away at his keyboard. Maybe he had not heard him? 

'Thrawn!' he called, louder. He'd snuck up on the chiss once before, also by accident, and the resulting sore jaw had not been worth the apologies and dotting he'd received in the following days. Thrawn turned around, looking surprised and distracted. 

'Ah, commander Vanto, how is the refit going?'

'Fine sir, have you come to look at progress? Is anything the matter?'

'No, no. I trust you with this. If Park is cooperating, I have no doubt you'll manage to make things go smoothly.'

'They are, actually. Going smoothly, I mean.'

Eli dropped his papers on the desk and perched himself on the edge. There was no one else in the dark office, and well, _he_ was the officer on duty here.

'Why d'you come back aboard if you're not going to look at the canons? Is everything alright?'

Thrawn was bringing up holos of sculpts now, and glanced at Eli distractedly without answering. What ever was up with him? It was rare for the chiss to act this abstracted, if that was the word for it. 

'I met with major Renri Sa'ronz today, for lunch. We arranged it back at the governor's. Very pleasant fellow!' Eli said, and he meant it, 'I've quizzed him and he's recommended me three different art galleries. I planned on messaging you about them. I mean, if you haven't already visited them? Are you already bored of Padar?'

'Bored? No. Do you remember the young woman we met at the ball?'

'Maiya Kaiden? Sa'ronz's friend? How could I not, she swept you off for a dance. What about her?'

'I took her up on her offer today. I went and visited her. She owns a cafe.'

Eli, recognising the introspective tone in Thrawn's voice, kept quiet and waited for him to elaborate. 

'The whole place is a sort of gaming parlour,' Thrawn went on, his left hand still lazily flipping through the holographic library, picking out items to be sent to his datapad. 'We settled down for a game of Zunzu.'

'Major Sa'ronz did say she was a big local name,' Eli ventured as Thrawn seemed to have fallen into a new bout of silence.

The chiss' eyes narrowed to glowing red slits.

'I do not believe that for a second. _"Local name"_? She beat me–no, that doesn't quite do her justice–she played me for a fool and then obliterated my forces, without giving me a single opening to strike back. Even the transport I took from her, she merely sacrificed. Her insight...'

Thrawn again fell silent, his left hand hovering through the projection of the planet Shili. The togruta homeworld. Eli's eyebrows shot up at the realisation. Thrawn had been so thoroughly crushed, he'd come back aboard to brood over his opponent's origins and culture. He'd come back to scour his art vaults, to gain an edge.

_Over a game of Zunzu._

Eli bit down on a grin. He hadn't seen Thrawn this worked up in his private life in a long time, and he now deeply wished he'd been there to witness the game. 

'That sounds a little too impressive to believe,' he said, knowing he'd tease more out of him that way. Without a word, Thrawn produced a small data card and handed it to him. 

'What's this?' Eli asked. 

'The game. See for yourself, and tell me what you think, if you please.'

Eli did as he was told with unconcealed eagerness. He'd _known_ the woman wasn't normal. She'd sounded so much like Thrawn at the ball, making striking conclusions out of the most unremarkable hints. Except Thrawn didn't read "people" that way. He understood whole cultures, their biases, their blind spots... Interpersonal relationships were not his forte, but Kaiden had floored Eli with her guesses on his ties to Thrawn.   
He had asked Renri if she could have known beforehand, if she had an interest for the navy's going-ons, and the man had laughed.

'She didn't know how to read my lieutenant insignia when I met her.' He'd said around a mouthful of pipiya gratin. 'No, she's just like that. She gets a little scary sometimes, but she hides it well too. She graduated from Basfar you know, the scientific university station around Coruscant? The one that competes with the imperial scientific institute. She was a research fellow there before coming back to Padar. She's got a sharp mind and little enough to blunt it on. Sometimes her scholar claws come out and she sinks them into a thing that's caught her fancy. It's quite a show, when you're not the one getting vivisected.'

The man had little to say about his friend but praises. Eli got the distinctive impression she was one of very few that he had outside of work colleagues. A familiar situation, though in his case the sharp minded friend was also his superior.

The three-dimensional rendition of the zunzu grid flickered to life, tiny and blurry, and Eli typed the commands to blow it up to a decent size. This seemed to be raw footage, without commentary or labels, and only a small glyph indicated which side was Blue. 

'Which colour were you?'

'Green,' Thrawn said, without turning away from his research. Eli figured if he felt this rankled by his loss, the game must still be seared in his mind. 

Turns passed fast, without taking into account the real play time. Instead, a little timestamp updated under the grid with each new move. 

Eli hummed appreciatively. Kaiden was doing some sort of chain formation and was progressing through fog of war at a terrible location for Thrawn, who was clearly not seeing it coming. She played fast too. Another notification appeared to mark the fog's lifting. Eli watched Kaiden's attackers deploy, link into immovable masses swallowing up territory. She was claiming Thrawn's G1 quadrant like it were rightfully hers.   
On the fifteenth turn Thrawn played an attack on her own territory, in the B2 quadrant. It was a blatant attempt at regaining control. She responded to it and for two turns the distraction had held and he had led. That's when she had sacrificed a ship to take back the initiative by returning her attention to G1's West border, where the main battle was still raging and threatening to spill into G2.   
Eli whistled. Thrawn approached and stood besides him, arms crossed, as ships blinked in and out of the hologram in the throes of the endgame. Her closing moves had been clinical. Eli was ready to bet she'd waited out patiently, turn after turn, for Thrawn to accept the inevitable and pass or surrender.

'Alright, I'm sorry for doubting your word,' he said in the end. 

Thrawn smiled faintly. 'What do you think?'

'Except for these two turns, she maintained the initiative during the entire game. She never lost control, kept you panting at her heels. Honestly? I think that the navy could use ten or twenty like her.'

'I wonder. Such skills do not translate to applied warfare. There is, after all, a large amount of strategies learnt specifically for the game. Like this opening of hers. The reverse of a manoeuvre that has been out of fashion for over two centuries, apparently.'

'But then strategy is studied at the academy too,' Eli countered, 'and then perfected in the field. And she didn't beat you, of all people, just by trotting out famous manoeuvres.' 

'No, indeed. She reads moves far ahead and is flexible. She had impressive and well applied knowledge, but a smart play on the grid does not equate a wise one in space.'

'Maybe not,' Eli said, keeping as straight a face as he could manage, confronted with such a petty argument, 'but she has the mind for it. And probably the guts too. Zunzu competitions are nothing if not open war, you know. The masters in Coruscant are really fierce business.'

'The _masters_?'

'It's a tournament held every two years to fight for the title of Grandmaster. There are twelve titles, and if you're a pro, and you've got the time and you can afford zipping around the galaxy, you could try and potentially win them all. One Kaleesh called Sarushi holds four of them and he's held on to some of these for years! I don't know who the current grandmaster is, but they'll have to fight for it again this year. Ah– At the end of the month actually... Is everything alright?'

Thrawn was grimacing like he'd bitten on some sour food.

'It seems to me that I need to investigate her and her standing in this community further.'

Eli pondered whether he should tell Thrawn what he'd learnt about the Kaiden woman over his lunch with Renri, about her years as a zeroG team strategist in university.

'Should we look her up, see if there is anything on station records?' He ventured. 

Thrawn hummed, turning back to his console and its star charts of Shili colonies. He tapped his index against his lips, thoughtful. 

'No. I would like to defeat her through my own reading of her abilities. She is not some pirate who needs to be suppressed by all means necessary, but a worthy opponent. I must admit this was as enjoyable as it was insufferable. I am still to determine how much of her genius arises from natural cunning and how much from studiousness.'

Eli grinned. He'd keep his knowledge to himself then. This was too much fun for him, and probably for Thrawn too, despite all his frowning. Thrawn was bound to uncover it himself in due time anyway.  
He always did.   
Eli mused on what would betray her. Maybe a trophy or some other memorabilia. Maybe she had enough art lying around that Thrawn would immediately pin her as a sharpshooter and quiz her until she told him everything.

'Well, I'll leave you to it then–'

'The galleries,' Thrawn called out after him, 'I thank you for enquiring. Please leave me the details, I'll be sure to visit them.'

Eli nodded, smiling broadly. More research, more data to feed the analytical war machine of Thrawn's mind. Well, it sounded like he was going to need every bit of help he could get.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vanto is surprisingly fun to write as a PoV. Finally understand why he's the real popular one, both for Zahn and many fic writers. I'm thinking I might do a Halloween-y horror one shot in his PoV, if I can convince myself to let go of this fic for a week.
> 
> Also, thank you for sticking with me so far. I've exhausted all my notes. The other half written tidbits I have are for the chapters of romance and action, all the plot resolutions and character backstory reveals. These 'middle chapter' waters are deep and dark and though I doubt I'll drown, I might take a while crossing to shallower (and smuttier) waters. 
> 
> One thing though, how do you feel about smut at all? This is pretty close to a gen. fic and even more so by the time the action shows up later... I was thinking of keeping it very tame here and publish the smut as a one shot on the side, but now I'm considering making it a little more tame and keeping it in here. If you have an opinion, please feel free to voice it, I'll listen attentively and weigh pros and cons.


	7. A Wall For Him To Break Upon

**_Kifu_ **

_~_

_A notation system to record abstract strategy games such as dejarik, mankala, zunzu, and chess. A grid diagram is annotated to record the game._  
_Zunzu consoles can record and copy three-dimensional kifu that can carry additional information: date, location, players' ranks (if within competition data), winning player and margin and mode of victory._

* * *

When Maiya saw Thrawn walk into her cafe the morning after their first match, she went rigid. Pyla's words passed right through one ear and out the other. 

'Hey, hey–' she said, cutting her friend off, 'promise me not to freak out? No, no! Don't turn around! _He_ 's here.'

Pyla's eyebrows shot up. 

'Who, the admiral?' She whispered.

'Mmmhmm.'

'But you annihilated him just yesterday, right?'

'I told you, he loved it. Now, behave yourself, I trust you.'

The zabrak looked deeply offended. 

'I'm not a child, I can be discreet. Please, challenge him to a game. _Now_.'

'Don't you have a job to go to?'

'No, this is the end of my shift.'

'Fine,' Maiya said, incapable of hiding her excitement. She strode off to meet Thrawn. He had glanced at them, but walked to BT instead, and was enquiring after the variety of Kaf he'd had the previous day. BT pointed at the menu on the board behind her.

'It had some extra spices mixed in however,' Maiya said, patting down her apron and smiling brightly at the chiss. 'If you found it too bitter, I'd suggest you try the corvalan mix. It is more beginner friendly.'

'Hello, Maiya.'

'Bright morning, Thrawn. Have you come for your revenge?'

The man's red eyes glowered. However imperceptible his expressions, he was no master at erasing them. That was a silent yes, she was sure.   
He focused on BT instead of answering, and politely ordered _'that novice corvalan kaf'_ , before turning back to her, and to Pyla who had come to join them.

'My name is Pyla,' she said, extending a hand, 'a friend.'

The chiss gave an awkward look at the proffered hand before offering his own for a shake. Clearly not a gesture he was accustomed to. He kept his composure, and introduced himself, full name and rank included. His eyes jumped from Pyla's face to Maiya's and back, a spark of delight growing in his eyes.

'I must admit Maiya, seeing the two of you together, I can appreciate your passion for the convergent evolution of near-humans' he said, smiling, 'but for the horns, at a quick glance someone might think you related.'

Pyla turned to Maiya, nonplussed. Of course though, he was right.   
The Zabrak's yellowish skin was tattooed in sepia lines and her black hair was held in one large braid made of many smaller ones, studded with metallic ornaments. Maiya's own olive skin had ochre tattoos that shared an element of symmetry, if not design, with the zabrak's. Her own single white braid was unadorned and carried over her shoulder, but she knew dark roots were beginning to show.

'How three species and cultures can create two women who could almost pass for sisters to the casual alien eye, is indeed a mystery worthy of scrutiny,' he went on. 

_Three?_ Maiya wondered. _Oh, Right._ She never did explain the pantoran joke to him. Well, now wasn't the time to give this man more information.

'What do you mean?' Pyla asked. 

Maiya froze. Her friend could give her away without even realising it. 

'I was referencing a conversation I had with Maiya when we met on Ord Mantell, regarding her field of study.' 

She gave Pyla an appraising look. She was fit and taller than her, but Maiya kept in shape as much as possible, and she hadn't lost her edge. She reckoned she'd have a decent shot at tackling and strangling her if she worked her mouth too much.

'What is it that you studied again?' Pyla asked, turning to her with a vacant grin.

 _Great_ , she was playing dumb.

'I studied the correlation between horn growth and decline in intelligence,' Maiya replied tartly. 'Alright, let's get this game started so we can avoid the midday rush, shall we?'

Thrawn had followed the exchange between them with silent interest, but did not ask any questions. He took the mug offered to him by BT, and followed the women to the same console they had used the previous day. 

'Do you mind recording again?' Maiya asked. 

'No, that is fine. I think keeping track of our games will prove rather valuable.'

'What about an audience?'

Thrawn looked up at Pyla, who smiled back at him expectantly. 

'I do not mind.'

'Best you don't,' Maiya said, and raising her voice: 'alright everyone, starting a game!'

Eight chairs and stools clattered back as every other customer present in the room rose to come and crowd around them. _How long would it last? Was the guy on the rankings? Was this a lesson? 'No fair! I have to go to work in twenty minutes!'_  
Maiya yelled the game's settings over the cacophony. She suggested they play on a clock, so the game would last no longer than thirty minutes, and gave green to Thrawn again. Since he had lost the previous game, he had to have starting advantage.

'I am ready,' Thrawn said, his voice smooth and sure.

Maiya launched the grid, and silence settled over the room. Everyone had amassed behind Thrawn, intent on seeing what the newcomer would open with.   
Meanwhile, she had not actually decided what to play against him yet. She needed to throw him off. From the moment she'd won, she had realised he'd be coming back for more. He'd been shocked, but full of good natured questions and genuine curiosity. Pyla had been correct: she needed to research him like any worthy opponent.   
She'd only beaten him that badly because he'd come unprepared. He had misjudged her, and she had leaned into it. Renri's comments might have made him curious, but his claims of her being a "local name" had probably worked in her favour. What's a local name on Ord Mantell after all?   
But the chiss had been sharp, much too sharp. She'd weighted down on him and never given him a chance to breath. If he'd gotten one, well...

So she had looked him up, and what an interesting read this had proven to be! The Grand Admiral of the 7th fleet had a bit of a reputation. He drew in commentary, criticism, praises... People had _opinions._   
She had read about the flying formations he'd pioneered, about his art collections, about rumours that it was all he needed to take the measure of a people's military doctrine. It seemed a little far-fetched, but she'd been the one to make the point that aliens simply didn't make captain, let alone Grand Admiral. He might just be _that good._  
A Coruscant based smart ass had even written a think-piece about him and another Grand Admiral, a certain Savit, who was into music, and titled it _"_ Art and|of War".

It had become clear that every bit of information Thrawn gained on her would allow him to better predict her movements. He must have done his own homework, looked up some nice togruta art, especially after coming to Keykaf and seeing all the Asima Telula paintings and Bayamin Taber weaves her father had collected and put up on the walls next to the hyper-colourful and pretty ironic posters their kaf producers sometimes sent over with the beans. She was the one who'd chosen to pin them up on the walls. She found them hilarious.  
How much of that could he read into? And how much about her mother would he know? Nothing, she wagered. His earlier comment hadn't felt like a lie.  
He'd judge her as a togruta, as a human, as a scholar. If he were smart, and she had no doubts he was, he would know she had access to a large repertoire of tactics, patterns and formations coming from countless zunzu masters. Among them the kaleesh were the most influential. They were relentlessly aggressive, and took war seriously, in and off the board. It was rare for them to produce an opening layout that did not result in instant combat, like the Huugens manoeuvre. 

She browsed her mental libraries of kifus, memories of games played, witnessed, heard about. Strings of movement, strategies she unspooled against the chiss' imaginary comebacks.  
She noticed the clock starting its countdown: he had played his first move, but still she reflected. Once she decided on an opening, she would gain back time, but if she played something unusual, she could not easily change her mind.   
She clinked her nails against the console, tapping up a rhythm. What would trip him? What was as far from a togruta, human, or kaleesh mindset as possible? Far from their pugnacious, trap-heavy playstyles. She wanted something outrageous. 

When she finally conjured up a pleasantly obtuse plan she thought could work, she kept her contentment to herself, hidden behind an impassive face and hooded eyes. The more bored she appeared, the longer it would take onlookers to catch on.   
When they did, on the fifth turn, and started to whisper and murmur among themselves, she let the satisfaction wash over her without touching it. People shuffled to get a look at her side, and Thrawn was taking longer to play. She noticed him shift in his seat. His red eyes glowing just enough to be discernable through the fog of war.

 _Good_ , she thought. _Excellent. Please doubt. What can make them mutter so? Well, you'll know in two turns, and the more you hesitate, the less prepared for it you will be._

When the fog lifted, every head in the room turned to Thrawn. He scanned the grid, eyes a little wide. He looked taken aback. Not panicked or confused though, which, Maiya mused, said a great deal about his cool headedness. She drank in the sight, and when their gazes met through the grid, it took an effort to keep her stony expression from crumpling. She thought he might speak, but he turned his attention back to the ships, a slender finger coming to tap at his pursed lips.

She had canvassed her four quadrants, splitting and spreading her forces, each group set in a defensive lock. She didn't _have_ to play in a way that was natural to her... But whether she could pull off this monstrosity and steal some of the lower quadrants he had not populated–all while defending her own–remained to be seen.

Within ten rounds, she had sobered up. Thrawn was making intelligent placements, focusing his fire on a single group instead of spreading himself thin. He was very good, a total menace.  
She smiled grimly.   
The crowd was exclusively made up of regulars. If they made this a memorable game, word of it would spread, and people would come to see and buy the recording, and buy her kaf too. She felt a pang of distaste at the mercenary thought, but Keykaf was a business, and this was working hours.

Thrawn gazed at her from behind his mug. 

'Your mind must be a fascinating place to visit,' he said.

'Not selling tickets at the minute,' she retorted.

'What did you do to our Maiya?' Someone whined from the group around them. 

'Yeah, I'm gonna need the kifu for this...'

'Is invading G4 even _viable_?'

Pyla shushed and punched some shoulders, returning quiet to the room. Not like Maiya minded the distraction. It was her victory. All the ships Thrawn had taken from her would not make up for the territory she had managed to conquer. He would see it soon enough, and if not, they only had four minutes left on the clock. 

'Territorial victory on your part, I believe,' Thrawn said as if on cue. 'This was devious. I admire you.'

She beamed at him through the uproar. He leaned back into his chair, watching silently as the console restarted the game from the beginning and people started shouting questions, suggestions, and coming up with the best opening to shatter the early bones of the wall she'd built. 

'That was horrible to watch,' a young togruta said, 'It was like you were refusing to play. So frustrating!'

'That's the point,' Pyla chipped in with her usual insight. 'You build a sturdy wall and make your opponent as frustrated as possible. You steal your points bit by bit. No fun, but it did work.'

'Why thanks, I'm glad I managed to bore you all to tears, please don't forget to thank Thrawn for providing all the excitement.'

More questions piled up, alien fingers poking through the hologram to make a case for a different move or ask Thrawn or Maiya why they'd played the way they had.   
She thought Thrawn relished the attention. He had a way of explaining his thought process by making people think through the logic themselves. She listened to him, wondering if there was any hope at all of making him abandon his career to stay and give evening classes.

'I've got to thank you, by the way,' she said to him later when things had calmed a bit and people had run off to work. Pyla too had hugged her and teased Thrawn with another handshake before going home.   
The excitement hadn't quite died down, as new regulars trickled in and joined the group still dissecting the game. They stood right outside the cafe's door, Thrawn nursing a take away cup of the last variety of kaf left for him to try. That had been a freebie from BT, and Maiya wondered about the blatant favouritism, unusual for her droid. 

'What for?'

'The kifu for this game will sell well. Any experienced player will be able to tell that if not for the time limit, I would have lost.'

'Interesting. You sell copies of the record you've provided me?' He asked, a hand going to the pocket where he'd put away the datacard containing his copy of the game. 'Don't I owe you something for it?'

'Oh no! It's yours by right, don't bother.' She stopped for a second, feeling herself blushing a little. 'If you want to support the shop, just keep coming.'

Thrawn gave her a smile, and it was the kindliest she'd seen so far. You could almost forget how thin his lips were, when they curved that way, how stern he looked when solemn, almost cruel.   
She blushed further, reminded of his infra red vision, and sighed. 

'As you may have guessed, I'm not half bad at the game–' this got a whole laugh out of him '–and there aren't too many people on Padar to give me a good sweat. Renri is getting there. Penmuir too, you've seen him yesterday.'

'The chagrian?'

She nodded, thoughtful. It was hard to tell how much he knew of the competitive zunzu world. She had a tendency to jaw on the topic that she did not want to show him. 

'He's been trying to get into a few title tournaments for the past four years. He gets better all the time, and he's keen, but if I give him a real thrashing, he gets into a nasty funk, and it takes weeks of teasing to make him even look at a kifu again.' She shrugged, waved the subject away. 'It's only been two games, but I'm really enjoying this, and would love to play you more.'

'The feeling is mutual,' the chiss said, dipping his head in a small bow, 'and I would hate to leave Padar without claiming a few victories for myself.'

'Come and get them.'

'I intend to,' Thrawn said, his tone almost ominous.

'Ah, before you go–and please don't take this poorly–do you not own any other civilian clothes? I still run a reputable establishment, you know? And you look like a _smuggler_.'

'Excellent guess,' Thrawn said, sounding pleased with her, 'these were taken from a smuggler crew.'

'Err, did you ever catch a tourist liner or something?'

'Speaking of dressing up,' he said, ignoring her question entirely, 'are you available this evening?'

This gave her a flashback of Renri coming to ask her out to the ball, and she was too dazed to reply. 

'There is an exhibit on the first esplanade–'

'Oh!' She exclaimed, jumping up on her toes, 'the one on turn of the century nautolan art?!'

'The very one.'

'Ah, it's _huge_! I didn't realise it was open yet? I've been dying to go–' she stopped in her tracks, wide-eyed. 'What were you going to say?'

'I was going to suggest we go together. There is a reception for the opening night–tonight–and being a Grand Admiral has its perks.'

'You're inviting me?'

'Who else? I enjoy art, you specialise in near-human cultures, it seems to me we're an ideal pair for an interesting evening.'

She gaped at him, pulled at her braid, snapped her mouth shut, and finally nodded. A lot. 

'Sure I'll dress up for that,' she said when she got her voice back. 'I _can't wait_... Thank you.'

'I'll come and pick you up at 1900 station time then?'

'There will be a private group renting the cafe at that time. Just let yourself in and talk to BT if I'm not there.' 

She explained how she lived on the floor above the cafe, gave him her private comlink details, and once their plans were set, he turned on his heels and walked away, quickly swallowed by the crowd.   
Maiya had just been invited to a pretty exclusive event, _again_. One she was very much looking forward to. She felt the excitement bubbling in her chest, took a few calming breaths, and went back in the shop, determined. Six hours to close, and then she'd get to scour her closet for her finest. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't y'all feel like art gallery dates are the only way to go about it with T-man? Anyway, don't get your panties in a bunch, that's in two chapters. Next, Renri returns, with extra sass!
> 
> Also, you guys, I'm doing NaNo with a friend for this fic, and I can't decide if the shit I write on my phone at 3am should count by calendar day or if I should split the days based on when I fall asleep... Anyway, it's hard. I managed to plot out the next 8-ish chapters, so we're back on track, but I was sooooo not inspired for this one, until the end!  
> A lot more exciting stuff coming... 
> 
> The plan is to hopefully wrap this story up by December 10th, because Cyberpunk 2077 drops that day and I intend to dissolve into my couch and not crawl out of it for anyone, not even a naked Thrawn twerking on my desk.  
> We shall see.
> 
> Speaking of seeing: did you guys see THIS?? 
> 
> https://www.starwarsnewsnet.com/2020/10/thrawn-ascendancy-greater-good-release-date.html  
> 


	8. A Pillow to the Face

To major Renri, the Keykaf was a place of solace. Hidden away deep within the informal alien district of the second esplanade, and scarce in imperial colleagues, who favoured the airy cafes of the first or the dim cantinas of the third; it had been recommended to him by a local togruta contractor. The man had claimed that the best kaf in the galaxy came out of Shili, and that it was a hill he was ready to die on. Renri had laughed and said he'd be happy to agree, if only he could prove it. 

And so he'd first set foot in the Keykaf, and returned often thereafter, drawn back by the quirky owner, the games, the other regulars and the laid back atmosphere.  
There was such comforting safety in the sense of community he developed there. It was like being back with his old crew, people coming and going, all tied by common interests and good natured rivalries. Maiya in particular had taken him in as kin, in no small part because she was in a similar situation to his: adrift in a big galaxy, without any family to lean on but the one she could make for herself. They had latched on to each other, and now there were few days where he did not visit if he had the time, even well after hours.

That was exactly where he was headed now, his shift ended mercifully early by a series of computational errors. He'd stuck the guilty staff with the task of fixing it by tomorrow, slunk out of the research compound, and beelined for the cafe. As he approached, he noticed there were still people inside. Maiya sometimes rented out the space to private groups for a few hours after close, and he walked in, unconcerned.

The moment he stepped through the doors, the conversations died out so fast, it felt like the shop had been opened to the vacuum of space. All heads, human or alien, snapped in his direction, and for a solid second, nobody moved.

'Oh Sa'ronz, it's you. What a scare!' A tall man exclaimed, rising to his feet. As if on cue, people started breathing again. Some turned back to their conversations, but not all. A few still stared at him, brooding, wary.   
It was not entirely rare for Renri to get a reaction out of humans on first meeting them. Humanity in the galactic centre had gone through millennia of intermixing, and an obsidian skin tone like his was a rare sight, almost always arising from far-off worlds.   
This was not, however, that sort of reaction. _It's the uniform_ , he thought uneasily: equally black and definitely imperial. 

The man who had spoken came up to him. Renri, always sharp with faces and names, remembered him as a certain "Vinmara". He had wolfish good looks and a deeply insincere smile. He was covering some sort of stress reaction, face twitching, eyes unsteady. A lot of his attitude and body language was calculated to appear calm and confident and came out wooden. A bad sabacc player if Renri had ever seen one.  
He decided to meet the man halfway, taking it all in stride, accepting the flimsy excuses given him. 

'How are your games going?' Vinmara asked, 'I haven't seen you play in a while.'

'I haven't played a lot recently, that might be why.'

'You been busy at work?'

What an inappropriate situation to ask such a question of an imperial weapons engineer, Renri thought, bemused.

'You know how it is, empire runs us all ragged. Anyway, good to see you again, Vin, was it?'

He turned away from the man and his troupe of conspirators before another question could be asked of him, walked hurriedly behind the counter, past BT, and dashed up the stairs that led to Maiya's quarters. He slapped his feet loudly on the steps as a way of announcing himself, toed off his boots at the landing, and burst through the curtains.

'Why are you renting the place to these etusayos?!' He cried.

'Etu-what?' Maiya's voice came back, though she was nowhere to be seen. 

'Those creeps. Scary guys. The ones bellow-'

'Ah, Vinmara's group. What about them?' She appeared then, walking out of her closet with two armloads of clothes and nothing but underwear on herself. She gave a quick once over to Renri, nodded her greetings, and went on to lay her plentiful selection across the raised platform that took up half the room. 

'They pay the credits I ask for, why wouldn't I rent the shop for two or three hours to them?'

Renri bit on his lip, feeling a little stumped. He had no solid argument to offer.

'They're up to no good. I can feel it. You should have seen the way they ogled me when I came in! My uniform shut them all up like I'd walked in on a conspiracy to blow up the senate.'

Maiya smiled, though she didn't spare him a glance.

'Maybe you did. Vin definitely hates the empire.'

'Then why do you rent to them? It can't be good to associate yourself to–'

'Does this colour suit me at all? It was my mom's. Our skin tone are so different, I'm not sure I can rock purple the way she did.'

'Maiya–'

' _Kra_ frost, Renri! Sit your ass down. You can get some answers in a minute, if you want them.'

Renri did as he was told, and sat cross-legged on a floor pillow, leaning his arm over the platform and watching Maiya lay dresses against her and discarding them one after the other. She was radiating nervous energy, and clearly something was going on that was more interesting than the etusayos downstairs, but he bid his time and looked around at the mess she'd made of her home.   
Maybe it was wrong to call it a home. Even at the best of times, it was closer to a _den_. It was his understanding that both of Maiya's parents had been researchers in their own right, and the space was cluttered with mementos, archaeological finds and fossils, art pieces and large print photographs. There were also many teetering piles of papers and data cards, and a shinning black professional zunzu console, covered in dozens of printout kifus.   
The platform, which served as couch, sitting area, day bed–and most likely night one too–was strewn with an incalculable amount of pillows, poufs and cushions. Lush pantoran carpets covered the floors and colourful drapes of togruta design where pinned to the ceiling, hanging here and there and hiding the metal walls so thoroughly, when the windows caught direct rays from Bright Jewell, he could believe himself in an exotic scholar's summer hideaway. 

Eventually, Maiya found a dress she liked enough to try on, and started to speak even as she squeezed her way into it.

'I don't usually ask, but I know Vinmara has a bit of a dodgy reputation. Unlike most of the people who come to his meetings, he lives on Padar, so it's not like that's hard to find out.'

She whirled around, looked down at herself, her fingers tracing the dangerous outline of the split sides of the gown, revealing the tattoos high on her thighs. 

'Very outré,' Renri noted. 

'Goddess knows how mom ever wore any of these...'

She stripped again and tossed the dress on the pile of rejects. 

'Why don't you wear your cream one? The one you had at the ball.'

'Can't. Going to an event with Grand Admiral Thrawn, and the only two outfits he ever saw me in are that dress and my apron. Anyway. When Vin asked to book the cafe, he said his group's aim was to "establish channels of alternative service for communities down on Ord Mantell". Ways of bypassing the empire. Do it yourself and give the middle finger, that sort of deal. I'm fine with that.'

'Wait, wait, what was that about the Grand Admiral?'

'The opening night of the Nautolan exhibit!' She squealed from the depth of another outfit that seemed overly complicated to get into. 'The one curated by Nakuma Ilo! It's got thousand-years old water paintings and picto-printed reconstitution of palatial mosaics of the fourth queendom!'

'Yes, you've told me about it. I was more interested in the part where you're somehow going there on a date with the _visiting Grand Admiral_?'

'How's this?' She asked, adjusting the gown around her hips and turning around. It was black, sleeveless and tight fitting, a high rounded collar crept up her neck to kiss her jaws and plunge back down to reveal a modest amount of cleavage. It had no ornamentations beyond the use of different fabrics in the same hue, creating subtle patterns of various reflectivity. Again, the sides were split, but not so high that any of her tattoos there could be discerned. 

'Your mom's legs must have been amazing.'

'You bet, I don't think she owned a dress that didn't advertise them.'

'It looks great, serious and sober, but beautiful. Go for it. Now _please_ , for the love of all that is good in this galaxy, _details_!'

'Thrawn came to visit–' she said, and went on to sit by him at the low table and account for the past couple of days, the details of their games and the way he had invited her.

Renri was thoroughly impressed, and a little bit worried. 

'I never expected you to get a crush on Grand Admiral Thrawn. Though I suppose in retrospect it makes sense.' 

'What are you talking about? I barely know the guy. Yes, he's invited me to an art gallery opening night, and you invited me to a ball. Who am I to refuse either of these?'

'I mean, you're painting your toenails.'

'So what. Maybe I paint them all the time.'

'Maiya, you're always barefoot around your home, and I didn't even know you owned nail polish.' 

'I didn't before today.'

Renri sighed. 'At least the colour suits you. Do you think he'll get to see them?'

'What?'

'Your toenails. Is this that sort of date?'

'It is, and he will,' she said, frowning at him, 'since I plan on wearing sandals.'

'Mistress has taken a shine to that blue alien,' BT's voice cut in as the droid stepped into the room, holding a cup of kaf–no doubt Renri's favourite.

'Has she now?'

'BT! What nonsense are you spewing again?'

'I have my prerogatives mistress. Your well being is at the top of the list. I pay attention to you, the people around you, and how you react to them.'

'Did you see her being very flirty?' Renri asked, laughing.

'Do _not_ teach such words to BT!'

'Mistress, I know what "flirty" means.'

'Renri, I swear, you're the worst. Even Pyla isn't teasing me like this!'

'I'm pointing out facts!' he said, sounding as wounded as possible, 'BT you're such a sweetheart to me. You understand me, don't you?'

'I always try my best, master Renri. Here is your usual. Have you come to calibrate me today?'

'No? Is something wrong with you? Fetch me the toolkit and I'll look into it for you.'

'The fingers on my left hands have been quite stiff of late.'

'You didn't tell me,' Maiya chimed in, reproachful. 

'It is nothing urgent!'

'It's fine, just let me have a look.'

Renri said nothing more and focused on the wires in BT's hand, pulling out the connecting heads of the nerve bundles so he could detach the hand entirely and work on it from a better angle. The three of them sat in companionable silence, Maiya turning her attention to her fingernails and BT beeping a little melody.   
Despite the peacefulness of the moment, he could not entirely help himself from stealing glances at his friend. Last time he'd seen her smitten like this (no matter what she claimed) had been with a young togruta who'd thrashed her unexpectedly at a game. What, a year ago now? She'd wanted to pick his brains, and he'd enjoyed the attention. They'd been going on for a while, until, on very friendly terms, he'd broken things off because he needed to return to Shili. He wondered, when this one left, if she'd feel forlorn again. He could only hope he'd be there to cheer her up. Still, he wanted to somehow share his concern and check her fancy without raining on her joy. Renri, a cunning strategist in his own right, opted for an indirect approach.

'BT, come here so I can rewire this–how does it feel?'

The droid moved her fingers, curling first one direction, then the other in that creepy way the joints allowed.

'This is perfect master Renri, as usual.'

BT picked herself up, declared she would be downstairs if they needed her, and left them alone. Renri turned to Maiya, who was now braiding teal ribbons into her hair. 

'I had lunch with Thrawn's man yesterday, by the way,' he said, studiously casual.

'Oh, the cute freckled one?'

'Mmmh, I suppose that's one way of describing him. Vanto.'

'Did he try to recruit you?'

Renri made a horrified face. 

'No, no! Mostly we compared our experiences. His service history is fascinating. It seems his alien friend really put him through the most torturous path to success.'

'He claimed he is a good boss.'

'Fortunate one too. They'll be heading to rejoin the seventh fleet in a couple weeks, off to continue their streak of successful actions. Lucky them.'

There. Renri delivered the reminder in a perfectly conversational tone, hiding both his worry and his anticipation. For the sooner they were gone, the happier he would be... If only because his own commander was freaking out a little more every day the Chimaera spent at the docks.   
Maiya looked at him, one of her _'You're sure this is where you want to place that base?'_ look. 

'Are things not going well with Unmi?' She asked. 

Dang but she was perceptive. 

She eased herself closer to him and grabbed his hand. She turned it over, palm up, and swabbed it with the cotton she'd been using to clean up her nail polish. He watched her wash off the grease from his fingers, pensive. There was precious little he could say that was not top secret, or too dangerous for her to know.

'Is it "the Project", making you uneasy like this?'

'Can you please stop reading my mind? It's unbecoming in a friend.'

She chuckled and threw the greasy cotton ball to his chest. 

'Fine, keep your secrets. But now that your hands are clean, can you please help me braid the back of my head?'

She handed him some ribbons and gold caps and turned her back to him. Again they worked in silence, Renri slowly talking himself into answering her questions, as he usually did. 

'Things are getting tense,' he finally admitted, 'but I've been saying that for two years, haven't I?'

'Tenser than usual?'

'The closer we get to a fully working prototype, the worse things get. The Chimaera... Let's say it caused us some setbacks, I don't even have my full team with me, and Unmi is like a stalking nexu–on a good day. I told her to expect more delays this morning, and I genuinely thought she might choke me. _Then_ someone screwed up some code this evening. If you don't see me again, consider me shot and spaced.'

'What's with that mentality... Does she expect the pressure and fear to work some sort of miracle on your team? Why be such a tyrant?'

He looked at his hands, weaving white hair with blue silk mechanically. He thought of his commander, of her malicious smiles, her callous attitude, the fiendish way she recited the names of his people, sung on a toneless little tune, finger waging along, because threats were _so fun_.

'Well, if it works...'

Maiya scoffed. 'Does it?'

Renri capped the last braid with a gold clasp, threw it over her shoulder, and with a gentle pull, turned her to face him. 

'It doesn't matter, it's my job. Stress comes with the territory,' he said, serious. Then he allowed himself a grin: 'If you worry your pretty head about me, you'll start losing all our games and will have to cede the Keykaf to me and exile yourself to some swamp planet and do nothing but read kifu and eat roasted snake for years.'

'I wish you could tell me more,' Maiya said, 'I like worrying about you, you know, it's not an imposition. It's part of caring. But don't worry your own _pretty head_ either, I'd need to be in a coma for you to get into that sort of winning streak.'

He moved to punch her but she slapped a pillow to his face, fast as lightning. He pulled it from her hands and prepared for retaliation, but she was already on her feet, a finger pointed at him. 

'If you mess my hair right now, you'll be the one in a coma.' 

Renri laughed, and threw the pillow anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow you guys, sorry for the wait. Another painstaking chapter to write. Some parts were really wooden initially, and editing was a slog. In comparison, the micro daily Hannibal fics I've started on the side are gushing out of me like blood from an artery.  
> Ah well, can't wait to get to some wishy washy dialogue and intense action. 
> 
> Meanwhile, this is the 8th chapter in a month, so it's a pace of two chapters a week in the end, which boggles my mind. I've already topped my yearly output within this month alone... Let's stoke the fire and keep churning!!
> 
> Edit : topped 500 hits too on this occasion. Y'all making this such an incredible experience, thank you! <3


	9. Reading The Room

Renri had not been gone long when a small chime sounded. It was the alarm BT pressed under the counter to let Maiya know she was needed downstairs, and tonight that could only mean Thrawn had arrived. It was a bit early, but she was ready. She clipped the last of her hair up, stepped into her sandals and hurried down the stairs. The sight she found there was not what she had expected, nor an entirely welcome one.   
Thrawn _was_ here, in full starch-white uniform, taking a sniff out of a tea jar presented by BT–clearly on a quest to make the chiss taste every single drink she could brew–but so were the last stragglers of Vinmara's group, and they were starring daggers into the admiral's back. 

'Hey! I'll be right with you,' she said to him in greeting.

He gave her a knowing smile and a nod, and turned his attention back to BT. Right, she'd have some explaining to do, may as well make it worth it. She stepped up to the group, composed of a duros, a red twi'lek and two humans besides Vinmara.

'Hope you had a good evening,' she said, arms akimbo and a bright smile plastered on her face, 'now though, I'm going to need you to leave so I can close the shop.'

The twi'lek scowled at her. 

'With this guy in?'

She turned to him, cocking her head. 

'I beg your pardon? Do we know each other? I don't usually take that sort of comments from strangers.'

'It's alright,' Vinmara cut in, warding off the twi'lek with a raised hand before he could reply. 'You guys go, I'll be right outside with you.'

The duros grunted and pulled on the twi'lek's arm. They left, with plenty of glares directed at and past her. She felt her face twitch, her best efforts to keep a professional mask crumpling. Renri had been right, these were some serious _etuyo-whatever_. Hating the empire was as popular a past-time as hating the republic must have been. Big governments could hardly please everyone, and the empire could be brutal, but this was Padar, a rich mid-rim station that thrived on imperial business. Such resentment, in public, in her shop, to her face–  
She checked her rising temper and turned a cold eye to Vinmara. 

'Is there a problem Vin?'

He stepped in closer, his voice a whisper.

'This man there. He's a visiting Grand Admiral, did you know that?'

'Couldn't help but notice when I first met him and he introduced himself as such, yeah. He came this morning to challenge me too. Want to buy the kifu?'

That threw him off, but his frown only deepened.

'Maiya, I'm sure you don't need me to tell you how this will reflect on you. Already Sa'ronz spends all his time here and is a–'

'Oh, Vin, _Vin_ , I'm going to stop you right there. Look around us. See how this is not a Naboo political salon, but a grungy gaming parlour squeezed inside a kaf joint? My business. I don't cater to your, or _anyone's_ politics. I sell kaf and kifus, not ideology. You would do well to remember that, if you wish to remain welcome here.'

Vinmara smiled placatingly, waving her down with small gestures that came very close to becoming shoulder pats, and, Maiya decided, would earn him a punch to the sternum if they actually did. 

'Yep, okay, I'm sorry, I get it– I guess it's the shock speaking. We were all in disbelief when a GA walked in, but... You make a fair point, it's your shop and we still want to use it next week, if that's ok with you.'

Maiya grunted. She considered it for a moment. She did not appreciate being told to police who entered her shop twice in the same day, particularly seeing one being justified for the suggestion–if she told Renri, she would never hear the end of it–but Vin paid, and she wasn't exactly drowning in credits. 

'Just make sure this sort of incident doesn't happen again. With any customer, and particularly with my guests.'

Vin's eyes, fern green under a sweep of tastefully greying hair, jumped from her to the admiral and back. He looked nervous, she thought, and was about to reconsider her decision when he mumbled an ' _I understand, I'll pass the message along_ ,' and left.  
She locked the door behind him and turned back to Thrawn. He'd sat himself on one of the counter stools and was observing her. He was blowing on a cup of tea, looking entertained.

'It seems that my appearance was distressing to your customers.' 

'Yeah well, I told them to suck on some ice.'

She perched herself next to him.

' _Yan la siser kaffe nue BT_ ,' she said to the droid–orders to shut down and clean the kaf machine–and turned her attention back to Thrawn, who was starring at her, his bright eyes down to red slits.

'It's the uniform, you know.'

'I realise that. The white is meant to stand out. I am used to it getting a rise out of people, particularly on more remote systems,' Thrawn said, his tone light. 

'I'm sorry this had to happen to you here of all places. I knew this bunch disliked the empire, but I didn't realise they were that stupid. I appreciate you not confronting them.' 

'A certain amount of freedom of expression is a prerequisite for a healthy empire. If the navy lashed out at all the citizens who would sneer at their officers, we would dissolve in some great blood-bath.'

'How very open-minded of you,' Maiya quipped. But in truth she was relieved. If Thrawn had chosen to take offence, there was not much she could have done or said to appease him. This gave her sudden pause. It was a little daunting, this late realisation that this was a powerful man, one of the most powerful in the galaxy in fact, and while he'd been indulging her all this time, she'd been pulling the nexu's tail without giving it much thought. 

She laughed, struck by another realisation. 

'Do you not own any formal clothes that aren't your uniform? Are you stuck between smuggler and Grand Admiral's finest?'

'I do have more clothes aboard my ship, but I had this on hand and figured it would do.'

'It will attract a lot of attention... You'll be like a beacon in dead space.'

'Already has, hasn't it.'

'Goddess, please let me forget! But come, maybe I can lend you something.'

'Lend me clothes?'

'Yes. I never threw away any of my parents' belongings, so I have a lot of clothes that could fit you that were my father's. Come on, you can borrow some robes for the evening, I'm sure we can make you look dapper and civilian.'

She led the way up the stairs, Thrawn following her without a word. As they reached the landing, she turned back to him. In the penumbra cast by the curtain that served as door to her loft, the soft bioluminescence of his eyes really stood out. Unexpectedly bumping into a chiss in a dark back alley must be a hell of an experience, she mused.

'If you don't mind, could you take off your boots here?' she asked, 'shoes aren't allowed inside.'

'Your home, your rules,' he said, 'but before you let me in, you have to know, seeing your private quarters will give me a lot of insight into you.'

'Oh, so I've heard. I've read about you on the HoloNet. So is it true you can read people based on their art?'

'I would not quite frame it that way, but yes, art allows me to understand my opponents. One's home is a most intimate space. The art you place there, the taste you display in arranging the room, everything down to the colour scheme will speak to me and tell me much about your mindset, your... I will be able to use this information against you on the board. It will give me an advantage that you do not have over me.'

She laughed. 'Stepping in there will give you more insight into my parents than me. Finding me in that mess will be harder. Please feel free to draw your conclusions, I'd love to hear them.'

She observed him as he stepped into the room. She was curious to see his famed ability at work, and the living space alone would offer him plenty to chew on. It was a terrible clutter, tidy and organised, but perpetually poised on the edge of chaos. Growing up always fighting for space for her own things, she'd become the type who owned little. She wagered Thrawn would have a much harder time analysing her if she weren't living within her parents' personal museum, as she liked to call it.   
Too bad they weren't around to give him the tour too, as he seemed truly interested, taking his time with each relic or artefact, each image on the walls. He stopped a little longer to observe the crystal bowl that held her father's akul teeth. 

'This is a trandoshan religious bas relief carved in obsidian,' she said as he brushed the gleaming frieze with his fingers. 

Of course her father would have had much more to say about it, but Thrawn nodded, seemingly satisfied. He turned his attention to the ceiling.

'Traditional kashirans from the great grass sea of Shili,' she said. 

'But those mobiles...'

'From the atelier of master Chu Sheyen, the pantoran sculptor. Do you recognise them?'

'I do...' he replied, but he sounded distracted, and started scanning the room for something. 

She looked on, fascinated. He was like a blood hound on a fresh trail, and sure enough, he went still when he found her mother's shrine. She watched him frown at the moon goddess' idol, shift his position, bring his hand to his mouth, fingers wrapping around his chin to form the perfect image of a holodrama detective. What deduction was he preparing to make?   
He turned his attention back to her, eyes squinting. His irises were hard to distinguish, but she was certain he was scanning her tattoos. She saw the moment it really dawned on him.

'Your mother was not human...'

'Now you figure this out,' she laughed. 'Was it the mobiles?'

'There are many pantoran pieces in this room but they are mostly of a functional nature. The carpets, this low table, that lamp, some of the cushion patterns... But the mobiles are from a specific artist, one who makes representations of the pantoran night sky, if I remember correctly.'

Maiya was thoroughly impressed. Chu Sheyen was popular enough outside Pantora, but his mobiles were deeply nostalgic in nature and did not appeal to foreign collectors like the rest of his work. For Thrawn to recognise him and know the meaning behind them spoke of some encyclopedic knowledge... Or a pretty fantastical coincidence. 

'Someone who lived here felt at home with these objects,' he went on, 'and the only art they purchased of pantoran origins are deeply sentimental representations of constellations of the Sujimis sector... I could have drawn a confident conclusion then, but the moon goddess idol confirmed it. You did mention a goddess on occasion, but many human cultures keep a pantheon of gods in their mythology.'

He looked at her wistfully.

'You never said anything...'

'The smart zunzu player knows when to keep their mouth shut,' she said, shrugging. 'I did not lie and you didn't ask. Still that was a terrific deduction.'

'Quite right, I should have asked you more questions. The way you reacted to my account of people mistaking me for a pantoran was easy to attribute to your background. But a mother who does not mind the cold, the way you bleach your hair, the tattoos geometrical enough to be read both ways, the hints were there all along. You also spoke to your droid in a language I did not recognise on several occasions. I assume it is pantoran?'

'Mmmhmm. Not many on Padar, if I don't speak it with BT, I'd get rusty.'

'This explains many things. I wish we could sit down to a game now.'

Maiya chuckled. The next one would be the real test, and she was looking forward to it as well. She said so, but pointed out they didn't have that much time and disappeared into the closet to fetch some outfits for him to try on. 

'What happened, if you don't mind me asking, for you to be raised in such a family?'

She hesitated for a second, her hand poised on a formal black tunic. She didn't mind answering his questions. His tone was sincere, he seemed genuinely curious. But if she answered, there would be precious little about her that he would not know, and the disparity in knowledge between the two of them would only deepen. He'd been right, letting him into the loft certainly gave him an advantage she lacked.  
She shook herself. A handsome Grand Admiral was wondering about her past and asking politely. Now wasn't the time to be reticent. There would be occasions to tease information out of him soon enough. 

'My birth mother was part of the expedition. Before they left, she broke off with her man. Things did not go over well, so she didn't mention that she was pregnant. To him or to anyone. I was born on Iandra, the scientific survey colony I mentioned. I was the only child born in the first years, so I was pretty dotted on, or so I'm told. She died when I was two in a freak accident. She wasn't the only one either.'

'And your parents adopted you then?'

'Exactly. My–I guess I could say _mothers_ –were best friends even before the expedition. My parents were "atiti". Mmh, do you know the concept? I think in basic it's a god-parent?'

'Yes. My own culture does not have anything similar, but I understand the idea. They were assigned as responsible next-in-line parents in case something happened to her?'

'That's one way to put it. Of course they couldn't have children of their own. My mother–Paari was her name–used to tell me that snatching me was the only upside to losing her best friend.'

'Interesting sense of humour.'

'Right? Anyway, we left Iandra when I was seven and moved here.'

'Did they never consider leaving you with a human family?'

'It wasn't an option on Iandra. The expedition only had three humans, and they were all single. The other two wouldn't have been thrilled to be turned into single parents overnight. No hyperspace lanes either.'

Thrawn said nothing, so she unhooked one last outfit and walked out of the closet.

'Raising a being outside of your species isn't common but things worked out pretty well, or so I'd like think,' she went on, 'had to kick a few butts in my new school here but otherwise–'

Thrawn had his back to her, and was looking up over the full length mirror, at where her rifle and daggers were displayed.   
_Ah, kra illan_ , she thought, she'd forgotten about those. More explaining to do, and another layer of mystery to be pealed off of her. She may as well strip now and be done with it, the way things were going. She put down her selection of clothes on the platform, and waited for the questions to roll out. 

'Those are some very odd looking knives,' Thrawn mused, 'clearly not meant for killing. I have never seen the like of them before. The design of the blade makes me think they might be used in whiteout games.'

Oh how cunning. A statement instead of a direct question. The knives were daggers, and did look peculiar: the blades were much thinner than you'd expect given the thickness of the handles, had a rounded tip, and a groove ran along the smooth, dull edges. The tip also had a groove running around it, giving it the look of a ballpen. Like ballpens, they were designed to hold in ink and leave bright marks instead of slashing through flesh.  
Whiteout was a sport after all, the players were meant to survive.

'Those are yours, aren't they?'

'Now, _how_ did you guess that?'

He smirked, a smile as self satisfied as it was secretive.

'The rifle looks like an antique,' he went on, ignoring her question, 'a breech-loading bolt action rifle that shoots actual munition... Those are also used in whiteout, are they not? To shoot paint pellets.'

'You're asking me now?'

'I'm not familiar with the game. I understand it is popular around Coruscant, but I've never seen one myself. I did not expect you to be a player, but it is not entirely surprising. Someone with such a grasp of three-dimensional space manoeuvres on the grid should be at home in a zero gravity whiteout arena. What position did you occupy in your team?'

Maiya cocked an eyebrow. Mr. knowledge over there could identify the game by the design of the weapons, but did not know much about the rules if he could not tell her role in her old team. Only one person in whiteout could shoot the rifle, and that was the tactician. 

'Alright,' she said, paying him back with a crooked smile of her own, 'I think you know all too much about me, and I know nothing at all about you. We left Ord Mantell as equals, but today has really tipped the scales in your favour.' She raised up her hands to ward off any "told you so" from him. 'I'm not answering a single question until I've gotten something from you. Now please, look at these. I think they'll all fit you, but pick whatever you like.'

He walked over, looking mightily pleased with himself, and examined her selection in silence. She'd purposefully selected flowing robes and tunics with muted and dark colours. She sort of hoped he'd pick the tan tabard with black, orange and gold sash, what with orange being complementary to blue. But his attention was on a black tunic robe with a deep blue over-dress and silver trims. He rubbed the fabrics between his fingers, and seemingly satisfied, started to unbutton his uniform.   
Maiya's eyebrows climbed up to her scalp and she swivelled on her feet, hoping she'd been fast enough to hide her blush. She grabbed a pouf from the platform and collapsed on it with her back to Thrawn, starring at the wall ahead of her. 

'What would you have me tell you?' He asked over the noise of his belt unclipping.

'Are chiss comfortable with nudity?'

There was a pause, and then a little bark of a laugh.

'Commander Vanto, not even an ensign then, had a talk with me about that, on our early days at the academy. Humans seem a lot more self conscious than the chiss. We are as comfortable with nudity as a people originating from an icy world can be. I am sorry if I've unsettled you.'

'You didn't.'

'This is a little short in the sleeves, but perfect otherwise,' Thrawn said before she could shoot another question. 

She turned around. He hadn't yet put on the over-dress, and the tunic really flattered his broad shoulders. She frowned. The sleeves, meant to reveal your wrists to show off bracelets, stopped quite high and were surprisingly tight.

'Aren't you a little buff for a Grand Admiral?'

'Buff?' he asked.

'Muscular.'

He smiled at her, and to her astonishment, actually flexed an arm, making the dark fabric strain. 

'A warrior should never neglect their body. A healthy mind lives in a healthy body, and a warrior requires a superior one. You know this,' he said, inclining his head towards the rifle and daggers.

She congratulated herself on not gaping, but could not find her voice to reply. He shrugged the over-dress on, neatly folded his uniform, and walked to the mirror to inspect himself. 

'Can I leave my uniform with you overnight,' he asked, tugging his collar into place.

'Of course.'

'Well, I am ready,' he said, smiling at her. 'Shall we march through the fog of war?'

She laughed.

'We are going to an _art gallery_ , right?'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the slow update... And the fact this isn't at the gallery yet!  
> No plans for this to be a slow burn, but that won't stop me from being a bit evil! This was another hard one to write. My brain was already a chapter or two ahead, and I'm really unused to writing the same characters every day for weeks.  
> And check this out, the lovely [citrusvulpes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/citrusvulpes) made a fanart of [Thrawn on a beach day holiday](https://i.ibb.co/dgg4w9Q/IMG-8770.jpg) for this fic. It's a thing of beauty, and I'm extremely grateful, despite the sadly accurate depiction of yours truly simping in the corner, with accurate discord quotes to boot. #NoShameForThrawn


	10. Unexpected Encounter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG GUYS. GUYS!!!! Thrawn live action is confirmed. I feel so unsure.... I mean I screamed a lot (slapped my flatmate too and then collapsed in the pillows in a confused and screamy puddle), but I'm so conflicted about putting an IRL face on to our Great Blue Space Badass.

'Aristocras still benefit from many perks,' Thrawn said, still in mild disbelief that he'd gone through the entire familial and political structures of chiss society during their walk up to the first esplanade. 'If you are a member of the ruling families, being at the bottom of the political ladder is still a position of considerable power.'

'But what is stopping an aristocra from joining the military then?'

'Why would they want to? They _chose_ to become aristocra, this speaks of a desire for influence. Most likely they hope to become more important. A councillor, a patriel, or even a syndic.'

'The military also offers power, a more direct type too. What if they wanted to go that way after a few disappointing years in politics? Surely your social structure isn't that unbending?'

Thrawn mulled over the question. He had not ever given much thought to the motivations of chiss aristocras, and never had had to explain such intricacies to anyone. He felt a little pang of sympathy for Vanto, who had suffered through such pervasive inquiries from him during their early years together. But while his constant badgering had been necessary to fit in as fast as possible, Maiya's prodding was gratuitous, guileless curiosity coming at him in rapid fire questions, his answers quickly processed or stored away for later consideration. He could see her mind at work, building a mental scaffolding of chiss culture, adding one brace at a time with each new tidbit she squeezed from him. She was fast on the heels of the emperor, when it came to raw knowledge of his people.   
At least she wasn't interested in navigational charts...

'You have to understand, martial training starts very young. Every member of the military, navy or otherwise, must go through it. Your hypothetical aristocra would not be exempt, and most likely would suffer some ridicule, forever the eldest to hold any position. If they did climb all the way to the top however, they would lose their family connections.'

'How?'

'Past a certain rank, the family side of your name is removed, the military becomes your new family. It is to it and its council, that you owe allegiance, and not the family you were born to or adopted by.'

He spared a thought for Ar'alani, whom he'd also taken out to visit an art gallery, once upon a time; forever ago, it seemed.

'Is that an issue for our aristocra?'

'I would imagine so. But it might also be an issue for the family that adopted them in the first place. You have to understand, each adoptee is an investment. You are taken in under the assumption that you will dedicate yourself to the path most appropriate for you, and most beneficial to the family.'

'Or else?'

'Or else they will get in your way,' he said, surprised by the tones of bitterness in his own voice, 'you could be released, or rematched into a new family, one less bothered by your choices.'

'Is that how you were seen then when you were adopted? As a business move?'

She made it sound remarkably non-judgmental, considering her choice of words. He looked inward to his complicated relationship with his adoptive family. The confusion and hurt he'd experienced as a youngster from the way the Mitths had treated him, supporting him one day, abandoning him the next, was still there, neatly packed away. He left it untouched, and turned a serene face to his inquisitive companion.

'Indeed. My adoption was unusual, so I must have been deemed a worthy venture at the time, by someone high in the Mitth family.'

'Interesting use of the past tense.'

'I am not in the Ascendancy any more,' he said, deflecting. 'How long did you play whiteout for? I would guess more than two standard years, based on the wear of your gear alone.'

'No fair,' Maiya said with an affected whine, 'we've been chatting about your people's social structure, not you.'

'Yet understanding one leads to understanding the other. Surely you do not need me to lecture you on the fact.'

'You voice fallacious arguments with such composure, it's really disarming.'

'A strong accusation,' he said, repressing his smile.

She scoffed. 'This is the place,' she said, pointedly not answering him.

Thrawn could see the gallery up ahead, past the garden they were crossing. A crowd of people milled outside of the entrance, all finely dressed, coats or bags hooked on their arms. Since the event was on invitation only, they would finally be able to shake their tail. He glanced at Vinmara and his red twi'lek companion, wondering if their atrociously amateur attempt at following them was meant to be discreet or an open intimidation. They had been waiting for them when they left the Keykaf, and had shadowed them the entire way, too far to overhear their conversation, but too close to be anything but obvious. Maiya did not seem to have noticed them.   
Thrawn resigned himself to comm Vanto at the first opportunity. He did not expect they would try to follow them in, but he remained alert. He followed her through the crowd to the entrance where a thoroughly polished droid played butler and ticked their names off his list.

'Welcome to the _Turn of an Era_ exhibition,' he chirped.

From the first room, Thrawn could already tell that this exhibit would be very much in keeping with the theme of his ongoing "holidays": here was art to be enjoyed for its own sake. 

'Ah, look,' Maiya said, her hand alighting on his arm, 'this is curator Nakuma Ilo. We should go and greet her.'

Thrawn nodded and followed her to a female nautolan in flowing robes, who was busy welcoming visitors. As they waited for their turn, he looked down at the woman at his side.   
Given her reaction to his invitation this morning, he had expected her to be antsy, or to bristle with excitement. Instead she appeared poised, her hand was still on his arm, resting there in the polite fashion of couples moving through coruscanti social salons. Her eyes gleamed with anticipation, but she was at home in this setting, her countenance betrayed nothing of her earlier outburst.  
Before this evening, looking at her had been like staring at an alien night sky. But it all made sense now: he had spotted the constellations that revealed her place in the galaxy.  
The mask, the proud mien, the controlled emotions, those were pantoran traits. The cheek, the easy disregard for his rank and station, the warmth and friendliness of years worth of acquaintance, these were the togruta influences. It was unsurprising that a creature such as her would be biologically human. They were by far the most malleable aliens he'd encountered. They could fit in any role, blend with any culture, adapt to most environments. They were like an invasive weed, hardy and versatile.

'And this is Grand Admiral Thrawn,' Maiya was saying. 

Thrawn bowed, hoping his inattentiveness hadn't been obvious. 

'A pleasure to be here,' he said.

'Greetings to you both, dear visitors,' curator Ilo replied, bowing over clasped hands, 'your presence tonight is an honour.'

'Really, the honour is ours, and Padar's entire.' Maiya said. 'To have the privilege of hosting the work of Nakuma Ilo is a rare thing.'

The nautolan smiled at her, pleased to be thus recognised. 

'Are you familiar with my work, mistress Kaiden?'

'I had the pleasure of seeing your exhibit in the Drowned Halls on Coruscant seven years ago,' Maiya said, 'and it made me quite sad at the time that nautolan culture was not part of my studies.'

'You studied art on Coruscant?'

'Oh no,' she waved a hand to dispel the idea, 'I was studying on Basfar. Sadly, the only way you could get any art out of me is if you dipped me in paint and threw me at a canvas.'

'What would such an oeuvre be named,' Thrawn asked, caught with the idea, ' _Attempt At Art_?'

' _Dipped Human on Canvas_?' Curator Ilo suggested.

' _Pictural Assault on Non-Artistic Sentients, series 4 piece 22_?' Maiya said, laughing. 

'I would love to meet the artist.'

'I imagine their studio would be a sight to behold.'

'Would they throw their subject themself? They would have to be quite strong in order to throw a significant portion of known sentients.'

Maiya laughed again, her head tipped back. She looked up at Thrawn, eyes sparkling. 'Imagine the state of the canvas, after getting smacked by a fully dipped Wookie...'

He smiled back down at her. 'You might still have a career in art in front of you,' he said, 'you'll simply need some contraption to do the throwing in your stead.'

She shook her head. 

'I can make witty comments,' she said, 'but that won't sustain an artistic career. Will there be a speech?' she added, turning back to the nautolan curator.

'Later in the evening yes, I hope to talk to you again after that, mistress Kaiden, admiral.' She bowed again, tendrils sliding over her shoulders. 

They left her to welcome more newcomers and made their way arm in arm to the closest series of paintings. 

'What do you see, when you look at these,' Thrawn asked. 

Maiya studied them in silence. They were a small set of 'pastorals', painted in plaster over rock slate, meant to be seen above water and to represent the sights of the deep sea. She gave Thrawn a deadpan look. 

'A lot of shades of blue,' she said, eyebrow raised to invite his best repartee. 

Thrawn, too far gone now to care about appearances, grinned at her. 

'You are the worst tease I have ever met, Miss Kaiden, and I meet a wide variety of people through my work.'

'I have no idea what you mean,' she said, nodding at the paintings, 'surely you're not trying to deny the overwhelming presence of blue here? I know your people lean towards the infrared, but I never expected it would result in impairment on–'

'I can see blue just fine,' he cut her off.

'So what it is that _you see_?'

He glanced at the paintings. Maybe the artist wanted to share a qualitative experience with aliens who could never dive deep enough, or maybe they were as nostalgic as the mobiles of Maiya's mother, and destined for the eyes of fellow nautolans far from home.

Either way, he looked back to her and said: 'The artist certainly likes blue.'

She slapped his arm, looking indignant. 

'Let us take in more work before we draw any conclusions, shall we?' He asked in a placating voice that did not quite match the expression on his face. 

***

The exhibit was arranged in such a way that each new room was further submerged under water. First only some pieces were presented in partially submerged casings, or in vats of liquid coloured to imitate the depth in which the art was meant to be seen in. The third room had a waterfall. The fourth room's floor was a thick panel of glass set over a meter of water populated by shoals of tiny silverfish, and at the bottom the great palatial mosaics of the fourth queendom had been reconstructed and shimmered under the artfully placed lights, bringing to life scenes of nautolan hunters taming nightmarish beasts of the depth and shepherds tending to their alien flocks. More figures framed them, offering gifts, dancing, harvesting what might have been seaweed, and even painting and sculpting.

Nautolan art seemed to be built to last, and to praise the people, more than the rulers. Thrawn now knew a lot more about them, and as he'd suspected, none of it would have a tactical use: they were a strong people, but deeply unwarlike. It was in the joyous colours, the smooth and swirling patterns, the redundancy of motifs, all displaying the vulnerability of an intrinsically peaceful race.

Maiya on the other hand was not seeing things the way he did, and her own train of thought was fascinating. 

'See, the very presence of mosaic work just screams near-human status. Argorin – he's a respected scholar in the field – argues that the main denominator is in the skeletal body plan. That you can spot a near-human through basic compared anatomy, and that extraneous fleshy appendages, such as lekku or montrals, are not to be taken into consideration.'

'He judges people based on their skeletons then?'

'There is an entire field dedicated to that,' she said, tilting her flute of Corellian fizz as if it were a teacher's baton, 'he simply draws the line in the bone meal.'

Thrawn pictured scholars walking the vast fields of time, billions of alien skeletons worn to dust, crunching under their feet. 

'You disagree?' He asked.

'No, but I think he's being too vague. I have argued that what makes a near-human starts and ends with the anatomy of the hand–'

'My, my, fancy running into the runaway tactician, and still spewing the same weak rubbish five years later, I see.' 

The transformation that came over Maiya's face at the sound of the intruder's voice was so extreme, Thrawn could do nothing but stare. She tensed and spun around, shoulders drawn back, fist clenching around the stem of her glass, her entire body temperature visibly rising. She seemed to be readying for a blow – one she would deliver, not take.

'Powla Mindu... What are you doing here?' She spat at the speaker. 

It was a slender human, a pale-skinned brunette with long hair cut in the choppy layers that were fashionable in Coruscant when he'd last been there. Her dress was also of a popular cut, though the materials were on the plainer side. Coruscanti elite would not be caught dead wearing something as simple as dyed linen after all. She wore colourful metal bangles that clinked as she threw her hands up in the air.

'Why, visiting this exhibit, why else would anyone come to the Bright Jewell sector otherwise?' She exclaimed, voice dripping with sarcasm, 'though I've heard recently that some people come here to open cafes?'

'I did not open it,' Maiya said through clenched teeth, 'I inherited it.'

'Indeed. And each brewed cup of kaf is probably a greater contribution to science than any paper you ever wrote.'

Thrawn, though he did not show it, was taken aback by the woman's flagrant disdain. He had been on the receiving end of derisive comments and poorly veiled insults for years after his arrival on this part of the galaxy, but it was an odd situation, to be standing at the elbow of a human and not be the one held in contempt, to not even be acknowledged at all. Besides, this was frankly hostile for a spat between scholars.   
He looked at Maiya. Her jaw worked in silence, grinding down words she would not speak. Thrawn could feel the heat radiating out of her. He resisted the temptation to put his hand against her back, to soothe the taut muscles there. She had not introduced him, and this was a dispute between old enemies, he could tell. It was not his place to intrude, to defend her. Still, he was considering butting in when the Mindu woman spoke again.

'You know, we always wondered where you'd gone. Admin never said anything. I think everyone will be fascinated to hear the rumours are true, that the infamous tactician has dropped everything to go brew kaf on a backwater station around a backwater world. Last time your name showed up on a publication, it was like seeing a ghost speaking from hell.'

Maiya's expression shifted again, in a dramatic return of her mask which came sliding down like an emergency hangar door, smoothing her features as it went. She wasn't serene, her posture was still strained, but she gave a good impression of being bored. Or maybe resigned.

'You could just ask, Powla. It wouldn't kill you to be cordial.'

'Just like it wouldn't have killed you to say something when you left?'

'Are you kriffing hung up over grant money? Is this what this is? A five years old spat you've hand-fed and kept alive just in case you ever saw me again?'

'You think I'm the only one with grief against you? It left quite the _inconvenient_ mess you know, the way you up and disappeared, without telling anyone anything. Of course Basfar couldn't compete in the tournament with their tactician gone, and the grant boards were in shambles for months.'

Maiya scoffed. 'Oh, I'm sure you'd never be an inconvenience to anyone, for any reason. I think we can leave it at that.'

The woman grimaced. She opened her mouth for a retort, but Thrawn cut her off. He'd heard enough. This was not going anywhere, and he had not invited Maiya here for her to be persecuted by former colleagues, no matter how justified they believed their grudges to be.

'How long do you plan on aggravating my guest, Mrs. Mindu, was it?'

She looked up at him, eyebrow cocked.

'Powla Mindu, yes. And you are? Another of Kaiden's pantoran relatives?'

Though Maiya did not say anything in his defence nor visibly react to the very mistake she'd once found exceedingly hilarious, a high pitched _clink_ told Thrawn without looking that she'd shattered the stem of her glass in her white-knuckled grip.

'Wrong on both counts, I'm afraid. I am neither a pantoran nor a relative of Maiya's.' He smiled indulgently at the rude scholar. 'You would not be the first to make this mistake, though you may be one of the most brazen. My name is Thrawn, I am the Grand Admiral of the Seventh fleet.'

The woman gave him a disbelieving look, eyeing his togruta robes, his skin, his eyes, weighting out his words against her own prejudices and expectations. 

'An _admiral_ , really? I'm sure you'll excuse my scepticism, but that seems a little far fetched.'

Thrawn frowned. Cheek, it turned out, might be an inordinately common features among Basfar scholars.

'Don't let your dislike for one person blind you to the reality of another,' he said, chidingly, 'you forget your surroundings. Do you think it very likely that this evening has many delusional guests claiming the title of Grand Admiral?'

Taking his point in stride, she smiled at him, but she lacked the grace to make it contrite. 

'You're right, I suppose I owe you an apology, admiral. How have you been enjoying the exhibit? Maybe you'd care for some educated commentary?' She asked, never even looking at Maiya.

 _Cheek_ might be the wrong word to apply to this woman after all, he thought.

'A fantastic display of rare artefacts. But I thank you, I am in excellent company this evening.'

He placed a hand on Maiya's shoulder and smiled thinly at Mindu. 

'I see,' she said, taking the hint. She turned her attention back to Maiya, and though she looked like she was biting into a sour fruit, she gave her a small nod. 'I'll be leaving you to enjoy yourselves then.'

Maiya did not return the gesture, but Thrawn dipped his head and turned away, taking Maiya with him as he went. She followed silently as he led them into the fifth room. That one was entirely flooded, and they stood in a transparisteel cube, surrounded by drowned sculpts and swirling schools of fish.

'Can I please see your hand?'

'It's fine,' Maiya said, 'I didn't cut myself. Unless you count the cut to my ego...'

'Still, I'd like to have a look to be sure, if you'll let me.'

'Fine,' she mumbled as he took her hand in his, gently prying her fingers open, revealing the broken glass. It had cut cleanly in halves, without any stray shards. She was right, there were no cuts, but her small hand trembled in his. He smoothed her palm with his thumb, and putting the broken stem into the glass, beckoned to one of the droid attendants. It took the glass from him, and Thrawn waved off its offer of a new one.

'I'm sorry, that wasn't the best way to handle this situation,' Maiya said, staring at the hand he was still holding on to.

'How should you have handled it?' He asked, folding her fingers back. He released her and watched her hastily pat at her dress and hair, as if the strange encounter they'd just had had somehow left her physically ruffled. 

'I should have smiled and then ignored her. You know the saying. You shouldn't wrestle with a mudhorn in its pit. You get all muddy, and the mudhorn likes it.'

Thrawn hummed in agreement. This was a very appropriate image. 

'It was not your fault we met with some of your less savoury contacts from your university days.'

She didn't laugh or smile. The mask was still riveted in place. She looked away at one of the submerged sculpts, walked up to the glass and pressed her fingertips to it. She watched a stripped fish come to investigate, and with a rap of her knuckles, scared it back away. 

'I had quite hoped you would be long gone before any such cracks in my character had an opportunity to show themselves.'

'I don't believe talking back, in this situation, was proof of some fault in your character,' he said, walking to her side.

The sculpt before them was missing part of its head, grinning lopsidedly at them. 

'I take it Mrs. Mindu disagrees with your theories on hands?'

'Among other things,' Maiya said, nodding. She looked up at him, a shy smile returning to her lips. 'What a disgracefully small galaxy.'

He laughed. 'Yes, and the worst is, it only gets smaller when you have a hyperspace drive at your disposal.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya crowd! I'm sooo sorry for the wait!  
> I need to come clean with you guys : I have always been a gardener/pantser. As I said in the first chapters notes, this is my first multi-chapter work ever, and while the start was written in an exhilarating haze, this latest chapter is when reality hit. I do want to keep writing – and I will – but I'm really unused to working with a serious outline, and starting to struggle with the concept that anyone could want to read on. This sentiment always seizes me when I have a full outline. I don't have your perspective, with the mystery, the wonder... I know how it ends, and so I start doubting myself.  
> So yeah, on top of that, my furlough is finally ending, I'm back to work tomorrow!! ARGH! This won't slow me down much, and I still plan on working on the following chapters every day, but please bear with me as I try to adjust to the reality of this new momentous situation. If you ever get impatient, feel free to comment and I'll update you on my progress.  
> Hope this chapter was ok... Date isn't over y'all! But the hurt has to come before the comfort.
> 
> edit : with Thrawn coming to live action... I hope this'll put a new fire under my ass to write this all before we see him! omg omg omg... Still all crazy about it.


	11. Memories Shared

Acting on her growing suspicion that the chiss were a carnivorous species, Maiya had taken Thrawn to a togruta open-grill joint and was gratified by the sight of him digging into the food with gusto. He looked at her pensively, chewing on a slice of raw meat he had dipped in the egg and zin-spice mix that was this particular restaurant's speciality. 

'Come out and say it,' she said. 'Also, do you not like your pickles? I'll have them if you don't want them.'

He shook his head, mouth still full, and presented his plate to her. She picked the greens up with a few deft strokes of her chopsticks, herding them to her plate.

'I see _you_ have something to ask me too,' Thrawn said when he could speak, 'you should go first.'

She hesitated. Personal question? Scholarly one? They'd just sat down to diner after leaving the gallery. The night was still young, but he'd proven so reserved thus far, she wasn't sure how much she would manage to wrangle out of him.

'What percentage of the chiss diet is made out of meat and fatty animal by-products?' she asked, deciding to bide her time a while longer. 

'I have never put a number to it,' Thrawn admitted as he helped himself to another slice of meat, putting this one down on the grill between them. 'I would guess around fifty percent, maybe more.'

Maiya hummed. Mesocarnivores then. She wrestled with the urge to ask if he'd consent to taking a full bioscan, or share any pre-existing medical files. He indulged her a lot but she figured that'd be pushing it quite far. 

'I'm surprised to hear that,' she said instead, 'you must have a glorious metabolism, being from an ice world while remaining this slim and not being a hypercarnivore...'

He smiled at her, wicked little curls twisting the corner of his mouth. Maybe she wasn't as subtle as she thought. 

'Is the imperial navy even feeding you properly?'

Thrawn shrugged, mouth already full with a new slice. 

'It's better now,' he said eventually. 'As an admiral, you have your own chef.' 

'Oh, so there are delights to being Grand Admiral after all.'

'I do not know if lieutenant Ferro can be counted as a _delight_ , but yes, there are.'

'Why keep him if he isn't a good cook?'

'He is a good enough cook. Grand Admiral or not, one has to pick among the pool of navy personnel. If I could however, I would happily hire the chef from this restaurant.'

She grinned, pleased, and considered him in silence. She watched him turn his meat over and with a glance to seek permission, her own too.  
He seemed to grow more relaxed in her company, his smiles came more frequently, his questions flowed without reserve, but he still largely remained a mystery. A good looking, smart, companionable mystery, capable of holding entire conversations without a word about himself, his work, or his daily life. He dropped such tidbits here and there to keep the conversation afloat, but he never expended, never volunteered details.   
In a way, Maiya was impressed. She was familiar with navy types. No way not to be, when you lived and worked on Padar, a station attached to both an imperial deepdock and an imperial military research facility.   
Officers and troopers came and went, and while the second esplanade was never their favourite haunt, it wasn't rare for a more adventurous one to come and wander up to the Keykaf. They all liked to talk about work: the guns they fired, the places they went, the revolts they repressed, the pirates they bagged...  
Yet Thrawn, a man who by all rights ought to have an endless supply of stories to tell, kept mum.

'Your turn.'

'You know what I want to ask.'

'No, actually, I don't,' she said, 'I've shut down so many lines of enquiry from you this evening alone, you could be asking about either of them. Do you want to hear about why mosaic works signifies near human status to me? About what I did to make Powla hate me like that? Or what position I held in my whiteout team? Or maybe–'

'Point taken,' he said, interrupting her with a wave of his chopsticks. 'All three will do.'

She rolled her eyes, but giving in was the easiest way out in the end.

'I'll start at the beginning then.'

She plucked her meat from the grill and refilled her plate, sorting out memories and bracing herself for a monologue. She wondered idly if she were as much a source of curiosity for Thrawn as he was to her.   
Resigned, she started far back into the past, describing her parents, how they'd raised her to have a sunny disposition and happy manners _(if she could say so herself)_ , easy to make friends and respectful of all cultures. How both togruta and pantoran attitude had instilled a pride and combativeness in her, and how, in the end, she'd turned into a little monster despite their best efforts. 

'I have a decent fuse, if you get that image? It takes a long while for me to burn through it and become angry. You know, the sort of angry that needs to express itself. Sadly once I burn through it, the next fuse, the one that leads to violence, is much shorter. My reaction to things that make me truly upset usually is _"can I hit it, and will it make it stop if I do"_. I manhandled quite a few kids who called me or my family names. It got bad enough that my parents had to step up. What do you think they did?' 

She paused for dramatic effect, stuffed herself with a couple slices of meat that tasted like her father's cooking, and stared at Thrawn as she chewed. 

'Did they start you on playing whiteout?' He asked.

'No, that game is exclusive to university students. There are no junior or professional leagues. You can play other zero G games if your station has a no-grav field, and Padar has one. I was already a regular there.'

'Oh, there is one here? Fascinating.'

'Mmmh, would you like me to take you there some time?'

He nodded happily, smiling at the prospect. Remembering her question, he added, 'I have no knowledge of the familial practices of togruta and pantorans. They didn't use any corporal punishment, did they?'

'No, no! They actually complimented me.' She laughed, remembering her mother looking down the length of her nose at the other child's parent with a withering look and asking them how _they_ planned to punish someone who was tossing racial slurs in the playground. 'Then of course they grounded me, and then taught me to master myself better. Taught me that a tongue lash could be just as stingy, if not more. They instilled even greater pride in me. I should not defend myself with violence, but rise above the person who thinks themselves qualified to insult me, all that... My father also suggested to aim for the belly if it came to violence, instead of the face. Less bruising and swelling.'

To her surprise, Thrawn was nodding along and smiling as if this were excellent parental advice. 

'Had to get myself knocked back down a peg or two over the years. I really cooled it, went to study to become a researcher, joined the university's Zunzu club, then the whiteout one.'

'Ah, Basfar. Where you met the infamous Powla Mindu.'

Maiya huffed, knowing how silly things were about to turn. She knew that no matter how she tried, there was no salvaging a story this petty, no way to make her relationship to Mindu sound like anything but a shipwreck in slow motion. Thrawn claimed to value honesty. He was going to have to be happy with it...

'We were in the same year, most of the same classes, and we never got on. As time went on, we accumulated little offences and spats that turned to more direct insults. We also stand on opposite sides in our field. We don't agree on what really makes a near-human. She thinks they have to be related enough to humans to hybridise, and I think convergent evolution in phenotype is sufficient. The hand thing,' she said, curling her fingers and pointing at Thrawn's own hand. 'I don't want to get into details, because we could be here all night. It's part of a larger debate about the origin of life in the galaxy, whether we come from a common ancestor or whether near-human, like human variants, evolved from us.'

Maiya looked down at the grill, putting out more vegetables to roast, making it into an excuse not to roll her eyes at the memory of past arguments on the topic. 

'Grant money in our field has substantially dried up this past decade. No matter what one thinks of the empire and its policies, it is clear that Emperor Palpatine's government does not really care about aliens or near humans and understanding them better.'

'I did not realise this was the case, but I can imagine it. Funds for the military can be scarce as it is, I think diverging any more money to research on alien sociobiology would be a very tough sell to the senate.'

'You bet, I've seen the senate take the money away from us bill by bill. It has pitted many scholars in cruel battles, clawing and hissing at each other like loth-cats. So, one day, after some relentless badgering from Mindu over a grant, she overdid herself on an insult, I burnt through all my fuses, lost control and slapped her. That's it.' 

'I see,' Thrawn said, 'I suppose that was not very well received?'

Maiya sighed, plucked her vegetables off the grill, and pushed them around her plate. She'd long reconciled herself with the incident. It was amusing, in a dark way. But she was not at ease with what it revealed about her.

'I realise this is insanely trivial drama between scholars... And here I am, sitting across a Grand Admiral who probably eats pirate gangs for breakfast and planetary rebellions for diner, retelling such embarrassing stories, and that,' she buried her head in her hand, fingers pressing on her eyes as if it could wipe out her short term memory, 'just after I went and lost control all over again and snapped a glass in half.'

She looked up at the sound of his chuckling. Thrawn was pouring them the last drops of the bottle of wine they'd gotten with their food. He picked up his glass and sipped at it. He looked at her from behind its rim, red eyes radiating wry amusement.

'I have been in enough court-martials myself, though not for slapping anyone,' he said. He took on a far-away look, as if reviewing all the offences that had ever landed him in trouble, and how they compared to a slap. 'Everyone makes errors, I don't feel like yours is particularly momentous. Certainly Mindu managed to come across as... abrasive... in just a few minutes. Besides you put effort into first acknowledging and then correcting what you see as flaws.'

'Don't you?'

He shrugged. 'You did not hurt anyone tonight, not even yourself.'

'Not for lack of trying,' she grumbled, taking the glass he'd filled for her and looking down into its amber depth. _Was he trying to soothe her? What an interesting development._

'Besides, I believe you romanticise service life. Lieutenant Ferro does not cook up pirate gangs for me every morning.'

'Romanticise? Me? It's your official records that read like holofiction!'

'I suppose they might. I have been busy these past few years. Just not in as glamorous a manner as you make it out to be.'

'Can you see where I stand though? The gap between the lowest incident in the mundane life of a research fellow, disclosed over grilled meat to one of the Empire's greatest?'

Thrawn gave her a long suffering look.

'I would have more pity for you if you spoke in a more sincere tone,' he said, deadpan against her grins. 'Again, you're simply not privy to the worst of the small minded politicking and manoeuvring I get to witness. Scholars are far from having a monopoly on pettiness. What happened after the incident with Mindu?'

'She put in a formal complaint against me with the dean, with four red streaks still glowing on her cheek. Such displays of aggression are excusable in the young, but less so in adults, at least, functioning adults with pretensions of scholarly achievements. In the end they gave me an official warning and barred me from my club activities for half a year. I was to spend that time doing work for admin instead.'

'Your clubs being zunzu and whiteout.'

'Yes, I'd been tactician for nearly a year at that point.'

'You still have not explained what that entails.'

'And you still haven't told me about your family, or your hobbies, outside of decorticating art. Be patient,' she said, enjoying the way his expression clouded at the admonition, eyebrows twitching. 'The real clincher was that I went to the masters on my private time, did really well there. Then when our whiteout team failed the first two qualification matches of the year's Coruscant Trials, the coach made an official request for my reinstitution. I was back on the team having not done half of my punishment. I felt it of course. Just the act of losing myself like that...'

She shook her head, feeling the embarrassment crawl up her neck in a flush. 

'It was enough for me, but understandably never enough for Mindu. I thought she'd have been delighted by my disappearance and happily moved on. Nurturing old resentment is a waste of one's time and energy.'

'Agreed,' Thrawn said.

They were interrupted by their waiter, eager to see if he could make more meat disappear into the black hole that was Thrawn's plate. They settled instead and Maiya was even further gratified to see the chiss terrify the young mirialan waiter by towering over him, red eyes glowering, and asking him to _please, convey his sincere compliments to the chef._

They walked back toward her place, discussing amiably, staying far from sore topics, which wasn't hard since Thrawn was still fixated on hearing about whiteout. She described the arenas to him, large bubbles of transpariteel filled with obstacles of various sizes made of thick foam. She described the rings of seats that went around the edges of the bubble, all without any gravity. 

'It's very egalitarian,' she said, 'since there is no up or down, there are no best seats. Honestly I am not surprised you've never heard of it. It is most popular with scholars, station dwellers and spacers.'

The game was played with two teams composed of fifteen members, thirteen regular warriors led by a pointer and a tactician. All were equipped with two paint daggers, but the tactician alone wielded the team's Needle, as the gun was called. Each tactician started the game with twelve paint pellets, and the breech-loading bolt action rifle usually started misfiring by the tenth. It also had considerable recoil, making each shot a careful and deliberate action.  
Every player was dressed in a full-body black and white suit. The white patches were on the helmet, inner thighs, the lower back and the chest. Any paint smears applied by a dagger or bullet to these white areas disqualified the player and granted two points to the scoring team. Head-shots from tacticians were worth eight points, while disqualifying a tactician would bring your team ten points.

'Is it the leading position in a whiteout team?'

'Tactician? No. Teams have two leaders, the tactician makes up the game's initial strategy and coordinates movement during the game, since they often stay well outside of the brawl. The pointer is the one leading the assault proper and in charge of the mess of one-to-one. Pointer and tactician work together a lot.'

Thrawn nodded, eyes hooded by obvious satisfaction. He had the air of a loth-cat with his back-teeth swimming in egg yolk, she thought. It was a new expression on him, and she wondered if that was the sort of face he'd make when he beat her at zunzu. Not that she was in a hurry to find out. 

'You look very self-satisfied,' she noted, 'are you perhaps under the impression that you now know enough to beat me at zunzu? I would invite you to a game, but I'm afraid to ruin your mood by bursting your bubble.'

He gave her an appreciative look. 

'Taking my feelings into consideration is lovely of you, but quite unnecessary, I assure you. I would gladly take you up on the offer.'

They entered the darkened Keykaf. BT rose up from her usual seat and immediately turned her silent attention to Thrawn. To his credit, he accommodated the fussing droid and let her take him to the counter, eager to fix him a drink.

'BT, leave Thrawn alone. I know just what you should make,' Maiya said, and turning to the chiss: 'Do you know moka? It's a soothing herbal. I think you might need a cup of it before I'm done with you.'

'So you'll have some too, just in case?'

She grinned at him. 'Sure, sure.'

BT went to make their drinks while they sat down to the same console they'd used so far. Maiya set to work launching the game without preambles. As she placed her bases on the grid, she reviewed the evening. She felt in her a mounting dread: Renri was right, damn the man. She really liked the chiss. She arranged her ships in an absurdly aggressive pattern, determined to show him some tough love–even as she came to terms with her own feelings.   
_On that theme_ , she thought, _I really need to nudge him_.  
She looked at the board, divided by the thick haze of fog of war, and the red embers of his eyes beyond. He might be tight lipped and have a durasteel grade sabacc face, but she'd managed to rattle him during their game that morning. She could do it again. Willing to bet a change of attitude might help, she sent her bases on their course, and launched her offence: 

'You think you have a good layout?' she asked, sipping noisily on her moka. 

BT's head twitched from where she sat observing them. She'd seen her play enough– _played against her_ enough–to know what was going on, but her muteness in front of strangers came in handy. Maiya had remained professionally silent and inscrutable throughout their past games, and if his shifting around was anything to go by, Thrawn didn't know what to make of the change. 

'You will see,' he said coolly as the sensor that indicated it was her turn to play lit up. Hers was the seventh turn, the last before the lifting of the fog. She set a bomber in its due place in her Kaleesh-style offensive arrangement without delay, not to give Thrawn any time to speculate. The board cleared, revealing their positions.  
Maiya took in Thrawn's ships and let out a loud–and frankly rude–chortle.

'Would you look at that!' She exclaimed.

'What?' Thrawn asked, wary. 

'This terrible match-up,' she crooned, and seeing his frown deepen, 'yes, yes! Let the anger flow through you, let it distract you and send your forces into disarray so I can crush you all the harder!'

She cackled, delighted with her own best imitation of a holodrama villain. Thrawn, finally catching on, scowled at her. 

'I believed you to be a more dignified player.'

'Oh Goddess, Thrawn, if you want to try some of your own psychological warfare on me, you'll have to do better than that.'

'I prefer the polite you I faced this morning.'

'You prefer this morning because you thought you had a chance of winning!'

'Aren't you too old for this?'

She looked at him, bemused. Here was a bit of information, a corner of the curtain lifting over the chiss' life, revealing...

'You're really not good at this,' she said, not trying to hide her astonishment. 'You're usually so controlled, I didn't think of it... I guess... I suppose you don't need to be good at needling your opponents if you're at the helm of an entire fleet. But still!'

'I see your strategy and I applaud it. I did not expect you to go that way. You have my respect. However no warrior would fold before the very start of a battle when the odds are–'

'Alright, go on, make your move then and make your point!'

Thrawn's grimace was very real now. The gleam in his eyes gave her a little shiver of dismay and satisfaction. He played well, of course he did, but the fire she'd lit under him was showing its effects. His brow creased, his fingers rested longer on the commands of the console, his mind drifting in and out of plots to destroy her even as she snatched the lead from him, frustration working the corners of his mouth.   
She did not have much time to relish these little details. She could not afford to be that complacent about their game. But still, had he really expected things to go smoother for him, instead of worse? When the game tipped in her favour enough that she could relax, she resumed her tactic of distraction and prodding. 

'How old are _you_ , anyway?'

'In your standard years... Around forty-four. As a chiss, I suppose I am closer to your age. We mature faster than humans but live longer.'

She scoffed.

'You know how old I am?'

He squinted at her. 

'I have an idea, yes...'

'Oho, and what would it be, pray tell?'

He hummed, looking away from her and back at the screen showing him the dire situation his G4 quadrant was in. 

'I have come to understand that it is frowned upon to guess the age of human women.'

She giggled, game and teasing all forgotten. She tried to stop herself before her laugh could devolve into hysteria. Seeing him genuinely worried that guessing her age might somehow backfire was just too adorable.

'I hope you realise there are public files under your name that I have clearance to access. I need not guess your age to know it.'

'Truly not a gambling man in the end. But I'll spare you the search,' she said, finally composed again, 'I'm thirty-two. Does that mean your people barely see you as an adult by now then?'

He shook his head.

'No. Our early maturation means we become "adults" sooner than humans would. Our views on maturity itself are quite different.'

'Right. Still, I'm surprised with you. From your reaction, it looks like you expected to beat me tonight.'

'I expected I might beat you from the start. Each opponent a warrior faces is different, presenting new challenges. After our first game, I had an incomplete knowledge of your background. As such your victory this morning was a surprise, but not a shock. A _tactician_ ought to keep an open mind,' he said, inflecting the word, 'but misreading an opponent like you this badly... These games look like space based warfare, but fighting you feels more akin to a sly political confrontation.'

She felt his acknowledgment spread a pleasant warmth through her chest. It was something else to get compliments, however indirect, from someone who had coined military manoeuvres now taught in imperial academies. 

'You give me a lot of credit, but this isn't politics, you're just being impatient. Thrawn, I'm past thirty, and I've been playing this game for two thirds of my life. I've probably read as many if not more kifus than you have treatises on warfare. But while war has many forms, zunzu has been the same for over millenia. Despite your claims, you're still underestimating me. You think your own talents will translate well enough to earn you victory, but my own talents don't need any such translating. We're playing on my turf.'

She tapped a command, and a TIE appeared behind Thrawn's most extended bomber, effectively cutting it from his forces and further weakening his grip on the bottom of G4. 

Thrawn looked up from his screen. His expression was deeply guarded, but his earlier glower was back. He looked almost dangerous, his sculpted mouth pressed down to a thin line.  
She waited for him to accept the inevitability of his defeat, looking at him carefully now. Chiss, she suspected, hated losing about as much as showing their anger when they did. Or at least this chiss did. She felt for him too. Of course she hated losing at zunzu, but she believed she would not think herself so capable that she could crush a Grand Admiral at their third space battle, not even if she got a few of those under her belt first.   
She felt a dark undercurrent of pleasure in her as she fastened quadrant after quadrant, refusing him any hope of overturning the board in his favour. She wanted to tease him, wanted to reach through the holodisplay and pull on his collar, send him spinning in zero-G with a slash of red paint over his visor. She suspected he'd be an awesome opponent there, what with his level of fitness and talks of "warriors". But here, on the board...

'It's fine to be angry and to show it, you know, I enjoy seeing these new facets of your personality.'

'An easy stance to hold while standing on the high ground,' he said tartly, 'I'll be sure to remember it when our positions are finally reversed. Though I admit, that won't be tonight.'

He sighed, but there was nothing to be done. It had truly been a bad positional match-up for him from the start, compounded by his obvious lack of knowledge on kaleesh play-style and its foils.

'The game is yours.'

The holographic display flickered and disappeared as he capitulated. She gave him a bow and congratulated him on a good game.  
Seeing that it was getting late and feeling Thrawn might be running short of sympathy for her impertinence, she ran up to her loft to fetch his uniform. She folded the outfits she had taken out as suggestions earlier in the evening and added them to a bag alongside the uniform. He really would be less trouble in civilian clothes.   
Taken with a sudden idea, Maiya rummaged through her piles of kifu, chuckling to herself. She picked up a holobook titled "The Art of Holowar" by kaleesh zunzu grandmaster Eree Sun Tsur'ar, and hid it within the folds of fabrics. Schooling her face back to neutrality, she made her way down the stairs.

'Look,' she said as she handed Thrawn the bag, 'you come back any time. Tomorrow even. Don't lose hope. You play like a man convinced he has a chance of ever winning against me, and I find that very sweet. I'll always accommodate you for a game, you're my favourite Grand Admiral after all.'

To her relief he took the joke in stride and grinned at her, his good humour overriding whatever darker mood his defeat had sparked.

'I suspect I will be busy tomorrow morning. I have some... enquiries to pursue and some work to catch up on. But it would be my pleasure to visit you again in the evening.'

She walked him to the door for their farewell, and found herself unable to repress the other side of the coin that made her want to toss him in the air. She stepped in to envelop him in a quick embrace. The chiss stood frozen by surprise and she stepped away again before he could do more than pat her shoulder awkwardly with his free arm.

She smiled up at him. 

'Togruta custom,' she said, sheepish. 'Oh, and Thrawn! Don't worry. Even if you're old, you're still a snack.'

His look of utter confusion was by far her biggest win of the night. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya, thank you all for waiting, I hope this was worth it... I've been back at work, and too exhausted to write the past four days. I think a chapter every week and/or 10 days is probably going to be the new pace. Renri, Pyla dn Vanto are finally back next chapter, which will be shorter and less hard to birth, hopefully!!
> 
> Big ol' thanks to my friend Vindu4eva, who has actually beta'd for mood a lot this chapter and the last, preventing me from doing some serious blunders.
> 
> Also is y'all want something else to chew on, I've started a side fic focusing on Che'ri, Thrawn's "sky-walker" pilot, who grows strong in the force and decides to fucking go after him, wherever he's gone. Cool young chiss lass goes to spy school and beyond, rocks ass and learns to navigate her force powers on her own. It's [Che'ri of the Mitth](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27628168)! It's a weird, moody genfic, give it a glance if you like what you've seen here so far!


	12. The Rumour Mill

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BAM 6k+ chapter for you my patient T-lovers! My Christmas present to you!

'You did _not_.'

'Sure I did. What of it? I'm telling you, he likes the rough speak.'

Renri and Pyla were looking at her, enraptured, and most distressingly: silent. It was like holding court for the smallest kingdom in the galaxy. It was early and the cafe was mostly empty. Visiting patrons ordered a take-away with BT and hastened off to business or work, leaving Maiya free to entertain her friends by regaling them with the story of her evening with Thrawn.   
It was not lost on her that it had taken such a grand event to unite them to a common cause.

'That's not the problem!' Pyla eventually sputtered.

'What's the problem?' Maiya asked, crossing her arms and looking sternly at each of her would be courtiers in turn.

'That you let him go!' Renri said, 'after _that_!'

'That you didn't invite him to stay the night!'

'What are you on about. It was hardly the mood for it.'

Pyla laughed. 'Sure, after you destroyed him again at zunzu and made fun of him all the way through.'

'Wasting such an opportunity! And after I got you the gallery date!' Renri sighed, shaking his head.

'You _got_ me?'

'Well, I talked about the station's galleries and the upcoming events with Vanto, who mentioned them to Thrawn, who invited you.'

Maiya frowned, trying to figure out how much of that line of recommendation had truly led to Thrawn's invitation. Pyla, readily accepting the reality of it, gave a derisive look to her old nemesis. 

'I didn't realise you'd quit your job. And to become a match-maker of all things?' She clicked her tongue. 'You truly are shameless.'

'What? No, ladies, please. Art. We were talking about art! Then I mentioned–' 

'At the end of the day he invited me and I didn't owe any of you any flirting,' Maiya cut in.

'So the flirting you did do, you owed to yourself?' Pyla asked, grinning.

'Exactly. I mean, he's handsome.'

'Very handsome,' Renri agreed. 

'Is he?' Pyla asked, disbelief as plain in her voice as on her face. 

Maiya nodded gravely. 

'Don't worry,' Renri said 'I think it's a human thing. From what I've seen and heard, a few of his staff seem pretty smitten as well.'

'It's these cheekbones honestly.'

'And the red on blue colour scheme. So intense. Us humans just love bold skin colours. Pantorans, mirialans, zeltrons, twi'leks...'

Pyla was grimacing now, looking from Maiya to Renri with open disdain. 

'You're all attracted to less boring versions of yourselves basically, and nothing else?'

'I'm not boring!' Renri scoffed, patting his ebony cheeks. 'I'm also pretty popular, I'll have you know.'

'I'm sure,' Pyla said, the scornful curl of her lip claiming otherwise. 'Fun fact, for the longest time as a child, I thought zeltrons, mirialans and pantorans were all just humans. I couldn't believe they were all different species and that humans only came in shades of tan.'

'Excuse me!!'

'What do zabraks find attractive in aliens then?' Maiya asked, ignoring Renri's outcry.

'Among aliens? Mmmh... I think we enjoy the softness of some species. Like lekku... Yeah, lekku are pretty popular. Twi'lek, togrutas, or tholothians. I know it's not the same,' she said, warding off comments from the triggered exo-biologist, 'but I guess we enjoy some squishiness, where we are more...' she tapped the tip of her most prominent horn on her right temple. 

'So we all like in others what we lack in ourselves,' Maiya noted, philosophical. 

'I don't lack blue skin, but I think I'd do very well with bright red eyes! Now-' Renri slid his empty mug across the counter and got up. 'T'was delicious as usual, thank you Maiya, BT, but time for me to go, I'm afraid. Can't arrive after the boss.'

'Yes, scurry back to your lair.'

'Pyla! You shouldn't say that!' Renri exclaimed.

'What?' 

'Lair! It's such a strong word.'

'Still pretty appropriate. What are you splitting your curly imperial hair for?'

'Children–'

Renri raised a hand to keep Maiya from intervening.

'It's a very definitive word you see,' he said, with his warmest voice, as if speaking to a child, 'if you use it now, it'll be hard for you to top it in the future, when you want to _actually_ be insulting.'

Pyla looked like she'd swallowed krayt spit. In the end, Renri did scurry out of the cafe, if not back to any lair. 

* * *

Renri made his way through the nondescript grey and black corridors of the Padar research centre, waving and nodding at people while hurrying from elevators to pass-locked doors, delving deeper into the bowels of the facility. It _was_ a lot like a lair. Pyla had that right, except it wasn't his. The staff moved with the careful motions of critters that had made a home within the lair of a greater, more fearful creature that barely tolerated them.  
He arrived at his lab's blaster door, labeled “Advanced Weapons Theoretical Research Lab”, and slipped past it right on time, meaning five minutes before the aforementioned creature's arrival: commander Unmi. 

Renri's staff rushed into position, forming a row behind him, clipboards and data pads clutched in nervous hands, ready to step forward with the relevant documents if called upon. Of course _major_ Renri would be the one going through the actual report and taking the brunt of Unmi's reactions.  
Ever since they'd achieved a working model prototype, she'd been coming in every single morning at the start of her own shift. She didn't seem to perceive how detrimental her attention was to morale. Nor would she care if she knew, Renri suspected.

'What progress on the jamming?' Were Unmi's first words as she stepped through the door.

She was a statuesque woman, tall and muscular, who kept her blond hair shorn close to the skull. She was beautiful, if you enjoyed cold and domineering looks, and could somehow forgive her entire personality.   
Renri braced himself. She was already frowning. A bad start.

'We are still working on the software. Debugging it as fast as we can. The function still won't launch around thirty percent of the time.' 

'All this time and you have barely cleared the toss of a coin?' 

'Commander, four of my best programmers are working on the Chimaera as we speak. Everyone else is overworked. This is not my speciality, I can only trust my men and work on a more compliant hardwa-' 

'Always the same excuses,' Unmi cut him off, squinting her ghostly grey eyes at him. 

He flushed in anger but kept a pleasantly subservient expression on, confident his complexion wouldn't give him away. Maybe it was the same excuses, but it also was always the same rebuttals from her, usually followed by threats. And while Unmi was not a great leader, she was smart enough to follow up on those.   
Pushing his fears aside, Renri spoke up. 

'It's the same excuses because it's the same problem plagued by the same drawbacks. Commander, if you want us to work faster, then give me my men back.'

To his surprise, Unmi hummed to herself and walked ahead to the screens displaying the very code that had been delaying the completion of "the project". 

'Believe me,' she said, 'I have been trying. This alien upstart is nowhere to be found and his lackey has Sid Park wrapped around his little finger somehow.'

Renri ran with the best sabacc players on station and could give Maiya a run for her money when it came to keeping a straight face, but Unmi, a commander, calling a Grand Admiral an 'alien upstart' in front of the entire lab without blinking was almost enough to make him gape like a fool.   
Surely she didn't need to add insubordination to the secrecy of the project? He followed her through the room, pointing out progress and drawbacks, running a full session for her to witness, willing her to get bored and leave as soon as possible, without saying any more enormities. Clearly something was off with her. She was distracted, listened with half an ear, asked the same question twice, and finally forgot to get angry when hearing the report on cloaking speed, still dragging behind target.  
Renri acted as if all was well and normal and never asked questions nor remarked on anything.

'I'll try and get your men back,' Unmi said before leaving. 'Just get me these damn numbers up. I'm looking at presenting the project soon, and I don't want any more setbacks.'

Renri made the same promises he always made, his staff stiffened to attention and saluted, and she disappeared, leaving them to heave a collective sigh of relief. 

'That's the first time she's mentioned revealing the Moon,' Anton, a fresh faced lieutenant and genius mechanic, said in a whisper at Renri's side.   
They exchanged a worried look. 

Their lab's special "project" was unnamed to help with secrecy and the lack of any formal reports. It had been nicknamed the Moon by Renri and his crew. It was an appropriately obscure term, and came from the lab's own nickname of "DSM", short for Dark Side of the Moon. That had come from the facility's other labs, as it was less of a mouthful than their official designation, and whenever they ran a test on the prototypes with jamming, they fell out of comm contact. Hence they were notoriously hard to reach and the other departments often sent ensigns or mouse droids instead of bothering with calling.

'I don't know,' Renri said to the young man, 'I've kind of expected it since we hacked the disruptor on fourth Moon. She could probably show it off and use the bad jamming success rate as an excuse for more staff and funding.'

'But then they could take the project away from her.'

 _They_ could be anyone, but no one working under Unmi doubted she wanted to present her "project" to anyone but the emperor himself. She certainly worked them like she was expecting him to visit at any moment.

'Our job is to make it work. Come on, back to it now,' he said, clapping Anton's back. 

The day went on in the feverish haze that had become common place in recent months. Renri worked on the blueprints for ship-scale versions of the "Moon", breathing down the neck of his programmers and engineers before each test run, and looking at numbers until his eyes watered.  
When his comm went out, he almost didn't recognise the sound of it. To his surprise it was Commander Vanto calling him again.   
He stepped into his office before answering. 

'Major Sa'ronz,' Vanto's voice came over the comm without a holo.

'Vanto,' Renri replied, letting the man know he was alone and there was no need for formality. 'What can I do for you?'

Vanto's voice came back through a burst of static. '–make it known that I request your help aboard with a thing.'

'A thing?'

'Yeah any thing that you believe most believable. If anyone asks you.'

'Wait, wait, you want me to come over now?'

'When you're done with your day's work,' Vanto clarified. 

'Is something the matter?'

'I have this thing I'd like you to try with me. A local claimed it was edible.'

'You just want to have me over for dinner, come straight out man!' Renri said laughing. _Cute_ was definitely one way of describing Vanto. 'I'll be on my way soon then, I have just the stuff to drink along "edible" things.'

* * *

Eli was almost done watering his plants when his comm beeped to let him know his guest had entered the ship and was being escorted to him.   
He patted down the large leaves of his reed ivy. Its elegant stalks coiled under his touch, rising to meet him like a pet. 

'That's right,' he said affectionately, 'I'm a day late feeding you. I'm sorry. Things have been hectic.'

The plant didn't respond or understand, but Eli was a firm believer that talking to them made all the difference. This particular type grabbed the people who touched it, and he sometimes wondered if it could tell him apart from others. Few enough people got close to it, since it lived in Thrawn's office. Still, it was as much his as the ones that livened his private quarters.

'I'm expecting a guest, so I gotta go now,' he said as he carefully extricated his hand from the ivy's grip, 'but I've been saving some kaf grounds, it'll make nice mulch for you, sure you'll like it.'

He made his way to the bridge, deserted but for a handful of officers running checks. An ensign ran up to him, wondering if he were after an update, and Eli shooed him away with a wave and a smile. He was only here to pick up his guest.   
As if summoned by the thought, the doors opened and Renri Sa'ronz stepped through, escorted by a stormtrooper. 

'Major Sa'ronz,' Eli said, sounding as grave and serious as possible for this public display, 'thank you for coming in a timely manner. Now if you'll follow me, I'll show you the issue...'

The _issue_ was in his quarters, in the shape of a monstrous roasted pecor, along with spiced tubers and fried mushrooms. Renri's eyes nearly popped out of his head when he saw the dish. 

'Where did you find this?' He asked, awed.

'I walked down to the docks to get an officer out of trouble. She returned from her RnR on a ship that was paperworks galore. It was a big friendly taxi, and half the people hitching a ride carried some contraband. One of them had sixteen live pecors on his cargo manifest, so I talked to him.'

'How much did he ask for it?'

Eli shrugged, trying to repress a smug grin.

'I got it for free, in exchange for putting him through customs with an imperial seal.'

'Wow. Contraband pecor, man, you're gonna make me tear up.'

Renri meant it too, his eyes shone with more than just hunger and anticipation. Eli felt extremely pleased with himself as he invited his new friend to take a seat and dive in.   
Pecors were a wild space staple. A sturdy avian with tough meat and tougher tempers, they thrived on scraps and were the main source of animal protein in many communities from Tattooine to Thune through Lysatra. They were perceived as a poor man's food in the galactic core, and hard to come by. Eli had seized the opportunity, betting that Renri would appreciate it too.   
Renri had a Thune legend to share, telling of a jedi knight who'd wandered to the planet during the days of the old republic, and had been nearly overcome by a flock of angry pecors. 

'They say he eventually killed them all, and was so impressed he compensated the farmer for a ridiculous amount. Not like the Thunian was going to correct him. He put the money to good use and became a capital magistrate–a law maker that owns land basically. He had a pecor on his blazon, his house is still in power today.'

They exchanged more stories on food and the best meals they'd had, finding further common ground by comparing the culinary horror-scape of the imperial navy to their own cultural cuisine, the worst of nostalgia kept at bay by the flavours of home before them.

When they were done, Renri took out two dark pellets from his breast pocket and threw one at Eli. 

'What's this,' he asked, turning the ball of condensed herbs between his fingers. He didn't recognise the look or the smell of it. 

'It's a buba tea,' Renri explained. 'A tea with some euphoric properties... Makes you relax. It's a Thune _thing_ ,' he added with a grin of his own, 'and I got it in even shadier ways than yours. Some idiot willing to gamble over sabacc at a bar.'

He showed Eli how to brew it and they went back to his room to drink it. Renri wandered about, mug in hand, stopping by every plant pot, and eventually turned a curious eye to Eli.

'Is Lysatra a jungle planet or something?'

Eli laughed at that. It was more of a giggle actually, and his chest felt warm. The tea showing its effects, he supposed.

'We have jungles in the tropics, but we live in the temperate zones,' he explained, 'my collection started with a suga plant my mother offered me to celebrate my promotion to lieutenant commander. It grew really well but it felt kinda lonely, I guess? One thing led to another, and well–' he waved a hand at the so aptly named jungle around them. A couple of the succulents on his desk were even gifts from Thrawn, and the monstrian fern in the corner was a present from Faro. She had intended it as a joke, as they had a reputation to grow to stupid sizes. Eli had to prune it every week and loved it to bits. 

'I know just what to get you as a parting gift then,' Renri said, sitting on the bed next to him. He took Eli's empty mug, placed it on the floor next to his own, and lied down across the bed.

'I won't be leaving for a little while yet,' Eli replied, looming over him.

'I'm counting on it,' Renri said with a hungry smile.

Eli's comm buzzed, breaking the spell. He reached out for it, laughing at his own awkwardness extricating the device from his pocket. The caller ID sobered him right away. 

'Kriffing hells, don't make a noise, I need to take this!' 

Renri shifted around, sinking into the bed's pillows, waved one hand as if giving Eli permission to take his call and passed the other over his lips, a promise to keep them sealed.

Thrawn, who did not enjoy making a menace of himself the way emperor Palpatine and most of his cronies did, used voice only and not the holo function.

'Commander Vanto, how are things going on your end?'

Eli stammered through a brief summary of the situation. Thrawn had not been in touch with him since the night he'd found him in his office, but two days of work did not make much to report on.

'Good to hear everything is coming along well,' Thrawn said without any further comments. Though it sounded cold, Eli knew to take the implicit trust as a compliment. 'I would like to ask a favour of you. Yesterday I encountered some shady characters–'

Eli listened to Thrawn's retelling of his early evening with Maiya Kaiden. Renri shifted on the bed next to him, and they exchanged meaningful looks. This was pretty wild. Following a Grand Admiral taking a local on a date sounded like a bad holodrama episode.

'You want me to run a search for this Vinmara?' Eli asked when Thrawn was done. 

'No. I have already combed Padar's records. There is nothing of interest there. He has no record with local enforcement. I would have you call Yularen instead.'

'Ah, I see. Making this official then. Sure sir, I'll contact him right away and get back to you as soon as possible.'

'Thank you commander,' Thrawn said, and after a short pause, 'also, Eli, what does someone mean when they refer to you as an edible item?'

Eli turned wide eyes to an equally bemused Renri. The man shrugged, grinning.

'An edible item? Can you be more specific?' He asked, pictures of roasted pecor flying through his mind. He bit on his lip, damning the tea for making everything so entertaining.

There was a pause, and maybe even a small sigh.

'If someone calls you a _snack_.'

'Oh. Oooh! It, err...' Eli gave Renri a dark look as his muffled chuckling grew louder. 'It means they find you good looking enough to eat. I know it sounds weird, it's just flirting.'

'I see,' Thrawn said, seemingly unruffled. 'Thank you for your help, commander.'

'Anytime sir.' Vanto said before shutting down the call. 

Now that they were alone again, Renri let out his laugh with abandon.

'Is he perhaps a bit oblivious?' He asked between gasps for air.

Eli snorted. 'Try a lot. But you–' he frowned at Renri, stabbing an accusatory finger in his chest, 'you knew about this!'

'It's my best friend calling your boss a snack, of course I knew about it with my morning kaf.'

'Couldn't think of giving me a warning?'

'Truly couldn't.'

'Look, what you've heard-'

'Don't even bother, I've met the guy. I was in that evening,' he cut him off, before recounting the reaction the entire group had given him. 'If I knew anyone at ISB, I'd be making enquiries myself. I'm actually concerned for Maiya. I don't want her to get tangled up in any mess if they turn out to be trouble.'

'Mmmh, I see. Those types. Nervous around imperials and not very good at hiding it. Well, that's one thing, but tailing someone you know for certain is a Grand Admiral...'

'That sounds pretty stupid.'

Vanto shrugged.

'There are all sorts among dissidents, not all of them very bright. Let's see if Yularen can tell us what kind this Vinmara is.'

Knowing Yularen's preferences, Eli shooed Renri to the furthest corner of the bed and went to sit behind his desk. The holo of the older man appeared, revealing only his head and shoulders.

'Commander Vanto!' He said, smiling. 'It has been a while. Are you enjoying your holidays?'

'Yes it has been a while hasn't it?' Eli replied, his own smile much more shy. Colonel Yularen projected friendly-old-man vibes, but Eli had seen him work over the years and had never developed the same comfortable relationship with him that Thrawn had. The two shared a ruthlessness that made them enthusiastic collaborators. Eli always felt a little off about involving ISB into anything. Maybe it was a remnant of wild space thinking, or maybe the knowledge that ISB investigated imperial officers just as happily as rebels, that they were not ever truly on your side.  
'I'm not on holidays however,' Eli went on, 'but Thrawn is.'

Despite the sketchy holo quality, Yularen's surprise was unmistakable, his eyebrows nearly disappearing into his white hair.

'I didn't know the man could rest.'

'Direct orders, sir.'

Yularen chuckled. 'Indeed. What brings you to me then?'

'Thrawn's holidays actually. He went to visit a new acquaintance wearing his whites, and got a rise out of some locals. The acquaintance is a human who runs a cafe on Padar Station called the Keykaf. She rents the place out to groups. This one seems a little... Political in nature.'

'Do you have a name for me?'

'Not for the group, but their leader is known as Vinmara. He and one of his...Ah, I wouldn't know if "accomplice" or friend suits best but... A red twi'lek and him, well, followed Thrawn out of the cafe, all the way to the gallery he was headed to. He said it was a very sloppy tail, but probably not intimidation.'

' _That_ sloppy.'

'Apparently.'

'Vinmara, Padar station, at the Keykaf... Look, I'll see what our databases have for you, but you'll have to wait a little. I'm in the senate currently-' a statement punctuated by the appropriate sigh. No one outside of senators and protocol droids enjoyed being in the senate building. 'Do you have any other information for me?'

'No, that's all Thrawn told me.'

'Any unrest on station that might have something to do with your arrival?'

Eli had a flashback to their bust of the Green Faleen, scattering drunk officers and scaring patrons kriffless, dragging Sid Park back to the ship and wrangling him into starting the works. The mood hadn't been great the first few days, as the drama had trickled down the ranks, but things had gone back to business as usual by now and besides– 'Honestly I wouldn't know sir, I have not stepped off the ship since the works started. We definitely ruffled some feathers among the local officers, but I doubt this has anything to do with this.'

'Alright,' Yularen said, brushing his moustache pensively. It was almost like he was playing for time, and Eli figured he just might be, if the call was an excuse to take a break from some sort of committee or council session. 'I'll get back to you soon.'

'Thank you. I'll be waiting for your call.'

He shut the comm and turned to look at Renri.

'Looks like you still have some time to kill,' the man remarked.

'Think you can help me with that too?' Eli asked.

* * *

Thrawn shut down his comm and looked out of the bay window of his rental apartment, at the brightly lit concourse curving away, its bustling crowds of people all on their own paths, busy getting somewhere.  
His own mind swirled, busy getting nowhere. Vanto's words kept ringing in his ears, distracting him to no end: _'It's just flirting.'_

Thrawn, not nearly as dense as he was perceived to be, usually knew flirting when he saw it and understood the function it served. He just didn't choose to engage with it. On one hand it wasn't a thing in Chiss culture. You wouldn't go and tease someone as a means of showing your interest. On the other hand, most of the people who did flirt with him were part of the navy, either higher or lower in rank – all lower nowadays, and fewer tried their luck from commodore onward, he'd noticed. In any case, both were problematic.   
He didn't interact with that many civilians, and when he did, courtship usually wasn't on anyone's mind.

It was a whole new world of worries and wonder for him, these interactions with a pretty civilian who'd taken a shine to him from their first encounter and peppered him with flirty comments every day since.   
Then again, she enjoyed teasing him and had a playful nature, it could be just that. Humans were more carefree with their affections than the chiss. She also lived on a space station, interacting with transient people like him all the time. She could well mean nothing by it...

He shook his head as if the it could expel the distracting thoughts and turned his attention back to the book in his lap. He'd found it smuggled in the clothes Maiya had lent him and appreciated the jab for what it was. He managed to push through a chapter detailing the use of sacrificial feints before giving up, eyes blurring over the moving patterns of the holo book.  
He set the 'Art of Holowar' down on the pile he had collected.   
There was a book on kaleesh art, which had nearly given him a headache. It had been a long time since he'd faced a society whose art was so obscure to him, a fact rendered more unnerving by how martial and warmongering their civilisation was. He'd stopped reading when it had started to feel like work. He knew now he'd have no choice but to research the topic at length, but he may as well keep that for the longer stretches of quiet travel on the Chimaera.  
Under it was another book from Padar's library, called 'Comprehensive History of Traditional Pantoran Mok Affiliation Tattoos and Their Religious Roots' and was more of a catalogue than a history.  
He'd felt a tinge of guilt, paging through it. He was investigating Maiya as if she were some pirate after all, the drive to crush her having overtaken his original courtesy. Thrawn was a chiss through and though, and as such, not susceptible to take well to repeated failure. 

According to the book, the arcs across Maiya's cheeks stood for harmony.   
_"A moment when the goddess and her people are in perfect accordance and the voice of one is that of the other. To this extent the symbol is seen as one of wisdom, a striving for understanding or for piety."_  
The tattoo that outlined her bottom lip and criss-crossed down her chin stood for both stubbornness and honesty. His lack of knowledge on the tattoos' significance had deprived him of a good joke until today. She certainly advertised her character.  
The mixed symbols on her brow proved harder to decipher. One stroke was in the catalogue, standing for _belonging_ , but it cut through a bigger geometrical shape, forming an organic whole that was more typical of togruta skin patterns.

He had resolved to ask her in person when he went to face her again, and it was now time. He put on one of the loaned outfits, a black tabard complete with an orange and gold sash. All the clothes she'd lent him were beautifully cut and comfortably flowing. He'd realised trying them on that they would suit an active lifestyle while looking good enough for company, and had pictured their original togruta owner, running in and out of archaeological digs and museums, talking to local workers or potential patrons.   
Maybe he'd order something similar made for himself. Not like he had too many opportunities to dress like a normal civilian...

This, he thought testily, was what had grown to bother him so much, why meeting Maiya brought both excitement and concern.  
She wanted to know him better, asked many candid questions, worried he knew all there was to know about her while he hid an eccentric personality and exciting life under his silences and evasions. But the truth was that he spent his life in uniform, his time off training, researching, studying, scouring the galaxy for art to add to his archives...   
The truth was that he was a workaholic on a mission. A very long term one. And as a result, he was the one with little to share: little that she could know and even less that she would care to hear about.

He'd never felt the urge to justify himself before. This was his path, and he must do whatever it took to walk its road to completion. Yet in so few days, he'd gone and grown attached to someone who didn't fit in his plans, someone who pushed him to uncomfortable introspection.  
He wanted to please her and answer her questions. He wanted to tell her of days where he'd dreamt of becoming an artist in his own right, before his proclivities were discovered and capitalised on by the Mitth, sending him off to the navy.   
One day, his mother had gifted him an etching toolkit. He looked down to his left hand, where a scar could be seen running along his index finger, a memento of the day he'd learnt that the hand holding the wood plate should always be _behind_ the one wielding the gouge.   
He curled his fingers, watching the scar stretch and pale. This was his only souvenir of these days. His own art had not followed him to the Mitth family. Nor had the etching kit.   
Then during his time at the Taharim academy he'd started to keep rare plants, taking pleasure in the challenge some of them presented. His greatest prize was a tiny tundra frostelent which he kept alive from his first day on Naporar until his first command, when he planted it in the plain outside his home town on Rentor.  
Now the one plant in his office was cared for by Vanto.

Here and now, he had nothing but war. This wasn't the sort of answer he wanted to give her.  
He could picture the conversation, Maiya tilting her head, her tattooed brows bunched into a confused frown. 

_Why don't you pick it up again?_

What would he say to that? The Ascendency, the Grysk menace, the Tie Defender program and the misguided Death Star, the rising patterns in rebellions across the galaxy... They preoccupied him, stole his time and shadowed his life. It was his choice, his calling. The warrior's path.

***

Thrawn was still mulling when he arrived at the Keykaf. It took Maiya's delighted expression to snap him out of it. No one ever looked this pleased to see him, not even among his friends, he thought as she sat him down, served him a drink and chattered happily at him. Maybe it was because he'd never gone and crashed her plans, disrespected her orders, or dragged her into a court martial she would never have gotten into if left alone.

'Are you alright?' She asked, eyebrow cocked. She had been asking him a question about zunzu, something to do with colour?

'More than alright, I am much better prepared this time around, all thanks to you. I will gladly take whichever starting colour you wish me to have.'

'Was thinking maybe blue would bring you better luck?' She said with an evil little smile.

'Be careful what you wish for,' he answered in a warning tone. He was serious too, fully intending to make this game the one he'd wipe the floors with her.

She snorted and gave him blue, another jab, an invite to go and do his best. He felt the warmth of ire rising in him. He threw everything he had into the game. Every last emotion that had come to bother him was either suppressed or used to sharpen his focus. He pushed aside his knowledge of togrutas and pantorans and kaleesh warriors and their indecipherable art. Maiya herself was a tease and a plotter. She planned far ahead, sprung traps by crashing into them with the enthusiasm of a child jumping in a puddle. On the board she was a formidable opponent. But she was in his reach.

The game went on until late into the night. The clock on the wall ticked 0100 before the balance of power became clear. Thrawn did his level best not to gloat, but in truth watching Maiya bite on her lip as she surveyed her crumpling positions had him exultant. Revenge was sweet indeed.

'I see you've made good use of Sun Tsur’ar's wisdom. You play like a five hundred years dead guy,' she said, muttering from behind her hand as she scanned the board. 'What's with this use of Tapupi and canvassing on third stars everywhere? It's as genius as it is outdated.'

'I did not picture you as a sore loser.'

She glared at him. 'That was a compliment.'

'Truly?'

She laughed, tossing her head back with a swish of pale hair.

'You behave like I should be crying on the floor or something. You're too cunning, I've been waiting for this to happen.' She put her hands on each side of the console and bowed over it in what looked like a formal gesture. 'Excellent game, I surrender, be kind to me.'

He smiled back at her, the warmth of his win mingling with that of his affection. She set the game to replay itself from the start and they exchanged commentary as it unfolded before them. 

'And this,' Thrawn said pointing at her base moving from one quadrant to another, 'was the move where you became the agent of your own destruction.'

'Thrawn stop! You sound like a holodrama villain.'

'A villain who is right.'

Maiya scoffed and pointed out three different moves that could have given her a chance at turning the tables on him. He fired back with more defensive ripostes, and they argued and teased each other until Maiya cracked a wide yawn.

He stood up, glancing at the clock to discover it was now past two.

'It is late,' he said, 'I've imposed on you, I should be going.' 

'Won't you stay the night?' She asked. 

It was such an off-hand question, delivered in such a light, casual tone, he didn't understand what she meant at first. From where he stood he could see the tip of her ears reddening. She still smiled pleasantly up at him, but the flush spread across to her cheeks.  
He needed to answer her. 

'I...'

He tried to sort through his conflicting emotions, to think clearly about the implications such a relationship would bring about. His mind was as blank and as chaotic as a blizzard over an ice shelf.  
Stay the night and then what? Develop even more of these feelings? She was waiting for an answer, patient, expectant...

'I... don't know if it's a good idea.'

‘I see. That's okay,’ she said. 

She got up, her flush subsiding, her smile shifting to one of polite understanding. How much of that was the mask she was so adept at keeping on, he wondered, as she walked with him to the door. 

'I'd wish you sweet dreams,' she said, 'but I'm sure your victory will provide you with just that no matter what I say!'

He gave her a bow, waited for her to step up and hug him, the way she had the last evening, but she only bowed back and wished him a good night with that same unwavering smile.

* * *

Yularen did not call again until much later in the night. 

'Your comm,' Renri groaned.

Eli heard the familiar chime and disentangled himself from Renri with a soft swear. He pulled his shirt over his head and gave the man a warning look. A bright smile split the penumbra of the room.

'Commander Vanto,' Yularen said in greetings, completely unphased by his dishevelled appearance and his unbuttoned collar. Eli doubted the man ever slept, and he probably woke people up all the time. 'I've got both the profiles you requested. I'll be forwarding the files to you directly.'

'Both?' Eli asked, eyes flickering towards Renri, who was crawling up to the border of the holo's range. 'So Vinmara and the red Twi'lek?'

'No. Vinmara and the cafe's owner, Kaiden.'

* * *

Thrawn lay awake, listlessly awaiting the relief of sleep, his mind focusing instead on how wide the bed of his rented room was, how empty. He followed the dance of dust motes through the rays of Bright Jewel's light that filtered past the window's polarized screen.   
It was another new feeling for his expending collection, to be thus kept awake by doubts, to toss and turn, and wonder if maybe, _just maybe_ , he'd made an error of judgement.

In the end, no sweet dreams of victory came to him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry x-mas/festive season to you all!  
> This chapter was twice as long as usual but also soaked with twice the amount of sweat and tears, so I hope the two weeks wait was worth the wait, aha! Sorry it took so long, I had to return to work and this left me less time than usual to write. The good news is, turbo-covid is upon us here, and my job just put me on a three weeks furlough scheme. That's right folks, I'll now get paid to stay home and write Thrawn fanfic!
> 
> I will take a few days of proper no fic writing holidays to recharge a little, and then get back in the game, as we're building up towards the action and the END. I never imagined this would turn into such a long fic... I can't even do Chissmas prompts as this is eating my creative life!
> 
> My friend and flatmate made this super cute [Vanto Fanart](https://tucbilo.tumblr.com/post/638319050024501248/planto) of him as a plant lover as we discussed this chapter. After some discussion we also decided Unmi is officially Swole Tilda Swinton. :-x
> 
> If you want more Thrawn-related content from me and you haven't given it a shot yet, [give Tcheri's story a try!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27628168)


	13. The Bounty Hunter's Find

Maiya wanted to believe she'd taken Thrawn's rejection in stride. She had offered, he had declined, they were both adults and would move past it. So when he didn't return for a new game on the next day, she brushed it off. He was a Grand Admiral. That probably entailed some Grand Responsibilities. He didn't owe her his daily presence. 

When she closed the Keykaf on the second day having seen neither hair nor hide of the chiss, she started to worry she might have crossed some species specific border, done some sort of false step that had turned him away. 

'He'll be back by the end of the week,' Pyla said the next morning, shaking her head with the deliberate slowness of a great sage imparting their wisdom to a young learner. 'He never said _no_ , he said _"it's a bad idea"_ , right? He probably needs to sort his feelings out.' 

This did not entirely assuage Maiya's concerns. From her current understanding of chiss culture, she would not be surprised if they frowned on casual relationships. Their treatment of children, as investments and bargaining chips, was but the highlight of an all encompassing political structure that revolved around sets of complex familial ties without blood relation. Maybe they favoured political marriages? Thrawn had also hinted at a certain sense of superiority on the Ascendancy's part that was redolent of alien xenophobia.  
He might find interspecies relationships offensive. 

'Maybe I should have enquired before I offered,' she told Pyla. 

The zabrak rolled her eyes at her. 

'You don't make it to Grand Admiral without the ability to express yourself with your words like a big boy. If he has a problem with it, he better voice it. In the meantime it's not your responsibility. And I'm telling you, he'll be back. You've got him beat what, three? Four to one? He doesn't seem like the type to let that sort of score rest.'

Maiya accepted her friend's words with thanks and smiles, and distracted herself by working extra hours behind the counter, nearly running her own droid out of a job at times, until BT gripped her elbow and unceremoniously walked her back behind the food cabinet. She blinked her eyes at her. Tapped her shoulder in a way that was both meant to pacify her and tell her to fuck off from her kaf machine.   
Undeterred, Maiya turned to her customers, joining the room for games, running some classes, giving pointers to players. Zunzu had always been a retreat for her, a place of solace, where only logic mattered, and all goals were eventually achievable.

Come primeday, with the cafe closed, she did what her mother would have advised her to do, if Maiya had been able to turn to her for advice, and sat herself crossed legged in front of the Moon Goddess. The statuette was of carved obsidian, the stone of the goddess, meant to show one's reflection as one looked at her. Obsidian was a delicate material to craft. Such statuettes as her mother's were precious and rare. This one probably belonged in a museum. Instead it stood between a pile of flimsi printed publications a hand-span thick and a bowl of akul teeth, listening to Maiya's uncertainties.

Head down, hands folded in supplicant meditation, she left her thoughts drift until the clarity and quiet of meditation opened to her. 

_What troubles you, child?_

It was the first question asked by the Goddess to her people. _The first step in tackling one's problems is to be aware of them_ , her mother used to say as she taught her the Goddess' precepts. 

_I have added new feelings to my restlessness_ , Maiya confessed into the great silence. She had to admit it: she liked Thrawn. If he didn't come back because of her advances, she'd regret it.  
She'd long stopped finding him attractive for his alienness. He had a bright and curious mind, was upfront, unpretending. Nothing was above or below his notice. If it tickled his curiosity, he would ask. Yet he wasn't a babbling fool. It was fun, actually, to pry things out of him.   
Upfront, yes, but not one to volunteer explanations. Sometimes the veil would part, revealing glimmers of boyish candour. He'd been kind to BT, and kind to her... It didn't hurt that he was so easy on the eyes.  
She liked his company, valued him as an opponent, and craved his friendship. 

She had far more than her misgivings about Thrawn to voice to the Goddess. In the end he'd leave soon and she'd be left on Padar, still wrestling with decisions and choices she'd been dreading for years. 

_What to do with my family's inheritance_ , she asked the goddess, _can I ever be happy living as they did?_

The irony was not lost on her that once known as "the tactician", she now found herself stumped, unable to settle on the best course of action for her future. The Keykaf was hers to sell or keep. Her actions had endless ramifications and exploring them all felt daunting. "Regrets" were not something she could easily compute, and she carried enough as it were.

 _What can be done to achieve your goals_ , was the next question that came to her in her mother's voice.  
  
The Moon Lady was not a god of miracles or answered prayers. _She is all patience_ , her mother would say, _she is silent because she listens to all of us. It's her gift to us, that she's there as we struggle._ Maiya asked for peace, meditated on the virtues of letting go, trying to invite in the same sense of placid fatalism that had kept her going the past five years. Whatever bed she decided to make, she'd need to be happy sleeping in it.

Her meditation was interrupted by BT, poking her head past the curtain. 

'You've received a ping mistress,' she said. 

Maiya cracked an eye open. She'd done all her ordering and tended to the cafe's books, she wasn't expecting anyone.

'Who from?'

'From bounty hunter Alilee Charo. She says to find her by the docks before this evening. Quite rude, if you ask me, to make you go all this way just to see her.'

This perked Maiya up immediately. 'It's fine, it's not a courtesy call if she's staying around the docks, she must have something for me. Did she say where?'

'No, nothing! Like I said mistress, quite _rude_.'

Maiya got up, signing a quick gesture of apology to the statuette of the goddess for the interruption. Alilee was not someone she'd want to miss.   
She made her way to the third esplanade and flagged down a droid taxicar to take her closer to the docks. Padar, for all that it orbited a seedy planet, was not disreputable itself. It attracted good business and crawled with imperials. But as everywhere, cantinas and bars around the docks had a higher concentration of "visitors". Drifters, sailors, smugglers, bounty hunters on a last pit stop before hitting their hyperdrive, you found all sorts. All the sorts who would dare land next to imperial deepdocks and an advanced weapons research facility.

Maiya poked her head in a few bars, on the look-out for a face she'd recognise besides Alilee's. An Merk, Ben Slavo, Lin Mexi, Andi-son or Nu'zen Karl... Any of the usual suspects who dabbled in the vibrant business of carrying kifus. There was nothing illegal about them, but some renowned players were more _difficult_ personalities. Criminals, warlords, wild space residents... Besides, kifu chips could contain several games and were hardly larger than a knuckle. They were easy to carry around and peddle.   
Smugglers and bounty hunters with an eye for side business were good providers of rare gems.

She found Alilee at Yapi's. It was one of these weird cantinas that served food, though you couldn't call fried tubbers and whatever avian wings had been cheapest at market that day a real menu. Yapi himself was behind the bar, a muscular mirialan with a scary case of resting murder face. 

'Hey Yapi, what's my friend drinking,' Maiya asked, jerking her chin to the table at which sat the pink haired bounty hunter. 

'Been a while, Kaiden,' the bartender replied, a warm smile temporarily dispelling the impression he was plotting ways to murder and maim, 'she's drinking spotchka.'

'Ew. No accounting for taste I guess. Give me some more then, and a glass of fizz. Something drinkable please, with berries in it.'

She paid for the drinks and made her way over to Alilee Charo.

' _Ikriiza_ , Alilee,' Maiya said as she slid into the seat opposite the pantoran woman. 'You are in Padar and you don't visit me, just ping and make me buy drinks elsewhere. My heart's blood freezes.'

'You don't sell the good stuff, only that brown water of yours,' the woman said, accepting the proffered drink. 'Warm your heart my friend, I'd have come around to yours later if you didn't show today. I've got something that'll interest you.'

She raised a silent toast and drank deeply, giving Maiya an approving smile as she slammed the glass back on the table.   
It was an odd thing, Alilee's smile. A terrible scar ran from the remnants of her left ear down to the corner of her mouth. It was a deep cut, done by something that had also burnt the skin, making it pucker during healing.   
As such, Alilee's mouth was always crooked into a mocking half grin. When she smiled, the half smile became full, finally sincere.  
The scar did nothing to diminish her charms. She wore her hair artfully short, falling in gentle waves down to her jaw, framing a heart shaped face. She had bright, large gold eyes, high cheekbones, a button nose, and no tattoos, which wasn't too surprising in a bounty hunter. If anything the scar made her even cuter, by giving her speech a slight lilt.  
All of this of course was the pantoran's head. Cute as it was, it sat atop a serious set of armour, complete with scuffs, scratches and blaster burns and was attached to an imposing frame. She could probably make a hole through the table with Maiya's fist if they arm wrestled.

'I'm all eyes and all ears.' Maiya said.

'I recently got in a little... business dispute with a good-for-nothing who tried to scam me. Turned out he was a little bit of a collector. Had an inordinate amount of Clone War memorabilia lying around. And among it, these–' she dropped a small bag on the table, and lay down four chips next to it. 'These chips are what I had, the bag's what I got from him.'

Maiya pulled out her data pad, and started with the four loose kifu chips. One was a single game, long form, the final of the Su'zui tournament from five years ago. She put it back in the middle of the table, uninterested. The next two were private collections of games from nobodies. One was good enough to interest her. It would be easy to resell as study material. She set it aside. The last one was a complete Ma Zunzura tournament, all the way from Kalee, and not a decade old. She nodded approvingly and set it aside as well.   
She opened the pouch. It contained ten chips, without any markings. Just plain metal, shiny and new. She inserted the first one in her data pad and felt her heart's blood fully freeze. Not from the sadness of betrayal, as the pantoran expression implied, but from shear shock. 

Maiya forced herself to exhale, slow and steady. She carefully re-read the designation. CGM8-7928-MJYDvMJKF-r00.

She took the chip out, put another in, and another. They were all from MJYD. She didn't allow herself to look back up until she'd gone through all of them and reinserted the first one in. She tapped at the screen, reading through the opening moves.   
She had no doubts it was the real thing.

'Do you have any idea what these are?' She asked Alilee, letting her misinterpret the honest curiosity ringing through her words. 

'I know they're the game collection of a grandmaster, and two of them are minutes of a tournament. That's what GM stands for, isn't it? I also know they were stashed with other valuables. But otherwise, no, I don't speak you guys' jargon.'

'That's right,' Maiya said, 'at least one is from the Coruscant masters, it's at least forty years old. Maybe more. Seems to be a private collection from a big fan of the player who won the title that year.'

'Can you tell who it is?'

Maiya shrugged, carefully disinterested. Of course she could. That tournament's final game was famous across zunzu circles, though you had to go pretty deep to hear about it. She'd only ever seen a flimsi copy of it, and of dubious provenance. The original was said to have been one of the many losses in the destruction of the Coruscant zunzu federation during the Clone Wars.  
CGM8-7928-MJYDvMJKF-r00 stood for the Coruscant Grand Masters held on the 8th month of Coruscant year of 7928. R00 was the final round, the finale.   
It had opposed MJYD, _Master Jedi Yan Dooku_ , to MJKF, _Master Jedi Kit Fisto_.

'I don't have that sort of encyclopedic knowledge,' she said, lying through her teeth. 'There are millions of players in the galaxy. No, you'd have to do some serious archival digging.'

'Surely the guys running the Masters could pull the info if requested?'

Maiya laughed. For this she did not need to lie. 'Their building was completely destroyed during the Clone Wars. Only copies and reconstructed archives exist. You can always ask, but it's pretty patchy.'

'So, an unknown zunzu grandmaster and a chunk of his career. Beautiful. All twelve, two hundred credits.'

Maiya scoffed. It was a steal, but Alilee had absolutely no clue what she was selling. This was a major mistake if one wanted to play the negotiator. Of course Alilee was a bounty hunter. Reselling her finds, from guns to kifus, was a side gig she indulged in because she could. It was no excuse in Maiya's book and she wouldn't cut her any slack for it.   
They were friendly, and in other circumstances, she might have accepted her price without a fuss, but not only was this an excellent opportunity for a once in a lifetime bargain, she also needed to fight for it for appearances' sake. She must seem, to Alilee, to anyone watching or listening, like this was a bag of kifus by a random nobody just good enough to earn her interest, and not a collection of the best games from then Jedi Master Dooku, eventual Separatist leader and Sith lord who'd died fourteen years ago at the Empire's founding.   
There were no rules against owning the kifus of reviled warlords, but the separatist leader, well... She opted to play it safe. 

'I'll give you ninety-eight for them.'

Alilee scowled. 'I risked my life to get these.'

'No you didn't. You risked your life to get rid of some guy that was giving you grief, and you got well rewarded. I'm not paying for your own risk taking. This isn't worth two hundred.'

That wasn't a lie. In the right room, you could start an auction at four hundred. But this was not the right room and the auctioneer had not done their research. 

'Maybe it is, to a collector.'

'What collector are you going to convince to even look at your unknown player kifus?'

'I know that one of the players was a grandmaster. Tournament kifus are always more popular. This guy wasn't a nobody.'

Understatement of the century, Maiya thought.

'Alilee. Look at me. _I_ was a grandmaster for four years. I sell the games I win six creds and those I lose twelve, with annotated commentary. Explain to me why I owe you more than eight apiece?'

'So you don't want them?'

'I always want fresh kifus. Grandmaster guarantees quality, nothing more. Half of these games are not even labelled. I'll give you ninety-eight for them, take it or leave it.'

'One hundred and forty or I'm never making business with you again.'

'I'm the only person on Padar who'll buy your kifus and listen to you bitch in pantoran, like hells you're never making business with me. One hundred.'

'And twenty.'

'No.'

They stared at each other, Alilee's grimace made playful by her twisted lips. Maiya glared at her with the cool determination of a player firm in their placements and with nothing to lose.

'Hundred and ten,' Alilee said. 

'Fine,' Maiya conceded, opening her purse, 'you're so greedy.'

Alilee flicked a finger in the pantoran gesture that roughly translated to _fuck you._

'Pleasure doing business with you as always,' Maiya said, passing the credits across the table and disappearing the precious kifus into the pocket hidden inside one of her sleeves. 'What have you been up to since I last saw you? Feels like forever. I started wondering if someone had got the better of you.'

Just like that, the tension between them evaporated, business being done and over with. Maiya's heart was still racing, the silent sufferer of the incredible odds of today's find. The kifus seemed to weigh her arm down like a gold cuff around her wrist.

'I bagged a few people, you know, guild work, but then got wind of a private gig on Lantillies. Bodyguard work for a local princess during some celebrations that had the city's population triple and the royal guards stretched thin. I trained with them too, and by the time the job was over, the master-at-arms was so impressed with me, he convinced the Lord to keep me on as an instructor.'

'Oh, I can see you loving that.'

'Yeah.. I got to beat people down into the dust without any danger to my life. It was fantastic.'

'Why leave then? Got tired of it eventually?'

'Nah, just got everyone into shape. Wasn't making much sense lingering. They offered me a position, but I don't see myself staying in one place for that long.'

'Your wanderlust getting in the way of a stable career, huh.'

Alilee's crooked grin stretched wider. 'Your settled life getting in the way of your happiness, huh.'

Maiya suspected Alilee to be perfectly capable of subtlety, but it was a working hypothesis. 

'I'm perfectly happy, I don't know what you mean,' she replied, a not too happy frown on her face. 

'Uhuh? What's new with you, little sis, still ordering kaf beans for that mute droid of yours?'

'That's right. I did it well enough that my debts are all paid up.'

'Oh! Well, that deserves some drinks,' Alilee said, rising to go and get refills on her own tab. 'To hard work.'

'May it end soon,' Maiya replied. 

The two women toasted again, clinking their glasses together. 

'So, you're selling the place or what?'

Maiya squinted at Alilee, sipping on her drink to delay answering. Yes they were friendly, but not so much that she wanted to open up to the bounty hunter about the details of her personal drama.

'You know I'd welcome you aboard my ship,' she went on. 'You could put that mind of yours to more... lucrative tactics. You and I could bag some big targets.'

'Give up on that scheme already. I've told you no in the past, and I haven't changed my mind. I... have my reasons.'

'Oh? Is there a boy or something?'

'Urgh, you're the worst. Quantifiably. Maybe I should stick to doing business with Slavo or Mexi. At least they don't bug me about my life the way you do.'

'Wow, so there is someone. Knowing you, they'll be someone worth taking along, you should offer them a change of career as well.'

This comment was cause for some hilarity. Thrawn as a bounty hunter was an image to cherish. She pictured him in a more armoured version of his smuggler get up, blaster on his hip, strutting around... Or even better, in mandalorian armour, jet-packing over the high walls of a mansion to bag some high profile quarry. 

'What's so funny?'

'Ah, don't mind me. Anyway, where are you off to now? You sounded on a schedule.'

'Just down the gravity well,' Alilee said tapping the table with a finger to indicate the planet around which they orbited. Maiya refrained from correcting her. Ord Mantell was to their left. 'Another most excellent job. More bodyguard work, for some local pirate. It's a crime symposium or whatever. Lots of dangerous people meeting in a small room. I'm literally paid to stand behind some guy's chair.'

'Wow. You _are_ winning me over to the bounty hunting profession,' 

Alilee clicked her tongue. 'Keep your sarcasm for someone who thinks you're funny.'

 _So much for the subtlety theory_ , Maiya thought with wry humour. She rose to her feet and gave the pantoran a mischievous little bow. 

'I hope your new job is as boring as it sounds, Alilee.'

'I kind of don't. Pays double if a firefight ensues, you know?'

They parted ways on good terms, Alilee none the wiser on how badly she'd been fleeced. Maiya felt a fleeting spark of guilt for her lies, but it had a certain poetry, seeing stolen goods make their way to an appreciative pocket. And appreciative it was. She flagged a taxi down for her ride home, humming with excitement the entire time. She had to stop herself from asking the R2 unit to please go faster.   
Once back on her esplanade, she jogged the rest of the way, an uneasy feeling making her chase the safety of her own roof.

'BT, you'll never believe what I got!' She called out, bursting through the door of the Keykaf.

'What is it?' a voice asked. But it wasn't BT. It was _Thrawn_.

She yelped, one hand going straight for her startled heart, the other swinging the pouch of kifus behind her back. The chiss looked at her quizzically from where he stood next to her droid behind the counter. They looked like co-conspirators.

'Y-you're here- _oh Goddess_ -you've taken five years off my lifespan for sure.'

Thrawn cocked an eyebrow. 'Are you alright?' He asked, making his way towards her.

'Oh, I'm fine, totally alright-' she babbled, the bag like an ember in her clenched fist.

'Really?' Thrawn asked, looming over her.

His tone was hard to read. Sceptical? Amused? She could not tell. She was too busy panicking to attend to the finer points of the conversation.

'What are you doing here anyway?'

He shrugged. 'I came to visit and found the place shut. I was about to go when BT let me in.'

Maiya had no doubt she had. BT had been incredibly dotting on the chiss from the beginning. BT was overdue a long conversation.

'So, what did you get?' Thrawn asked.

'Nothing?'

Maiya could feel her cheeks flood back with the blood that had fled just seconds ago. He would see, she knew. He'd see her light up like a rhydonium explosion. More eyebrow works told her he wasn't buying it. She changed gears.

'I just got something for myself,' she said, showing the bag. Keeping it behind her back was too suspicious. It was an innocuous enough looking thing, made of reddish leather tied shut by black strings. 'Is that forbidden?'

'Not at all,' he said, sounding all reasonable, 'I am simply being curious.'

'Mistress must have brought back the kifus she went to collect!'

'What the kriff?!'

'Yes,' Thrawn said amicably, 'it seems that BT and I are on speaking terms now.'

'BT, you traitorous clanker! What ungodly sense of timing is this...'

'She was showing me the togruta way of brewing a cup of kaf. I had half a mind to surprise you with one on your return. Please don't be too hard on her.'

'Straight to the junk-yard it is.'

'Mistress!' BT called out in distress, the angry joke flying over her head.

'Won't you show me these precious kifus?' Thrawn asked. 'I'm very curious now. Wondering what you would get for yourself after your defeat...'

Maiya was at a loss. She couldn't exactly say _"you could get angry with me"_ or _"maybe you'll confiscate them"_. She didn't know that he would. Nor could she say _"Making you any better at this game isn't in my best interests"_. She had already given him a leg up.  
More to the point, she didn't know if he'd be able to recognise who the games were from. His knowledge of zunzu seemed limited to the playing itself. But she wasn't sure it was worth the risk. Besides she had reacted so poorly, no matter what he saw in these games he'd be suspicious.

'Mmmh... I don't want to?'

'Why?' He asked, his hand moving toward hers at an innocently slow pace.

She lifted the bag over her head, gave him an unimpressed look. 'You can't have this,' she said.

'Can't I?' He asked, eyes glinting with amusement, 'that's not very far for me to reach out.'

'Oh yeah? Selling me _short_ are you? Come and get it then!'

'Oh please don't fight!' BT called out from behind the counter.

Maiya had no time to move before his hand flashed out in a blue blur and snatched the bag from her. She gasped, shocked.

'I won't judge you,' he said, grinning, fingers already pulling on the black strings.

'Give it back you–' she jumped up without success. Thrawn did have the superior reach. 'I was joking!'

The scuffle that ensued was full of joint locks, yelps and breathless laughter. Thrawn seemed to be having a great time. He had mentioned siblings in passing, and fought with the consummate experience of an elder brother. Maiya, a single child not used to fighting weighted down by gravity, was a lot more vicious.

'You got these to get your edge back over me, didn't you,' he asked, breathless.

'I don't need anyone's help to bend you in half,' she groaned, straining to gain a better grip on his elbow.

They found themselves in a deadlock, panting, him with an arm against her throat, her with a handful of his collar and sleeve, legs tangled in failed attempts at landing the other on their ass.

'Look, Thrawn, listen, see here?' She tapped her knee against his own. 'If I hit hard enough, you can kiss goodbye to your kneecap. So give it back.'

'You wouldn't.'

'A very bold statement from someone who hasn't known me two weeks.'

He looked down at her, his amusement plain on his face now.

'Maiya, you are always a very conservative player. Aggressive on the zunzu board, but hedging your bets in real life. You are also very bright. You would not break my kneecap.'

'So are you or are you not a gambling man? You don't seem to be able to make up your mind.'

He burst out laughing, head tipped back. _His palate is purple_ , the scholar's voice chimed at the back of her mind. The whiteout tactician with a temper only saw the opportunity.  
She jumped, pushing against his arm and pulling at his collar to lift herself up. Her fingers brushed the leathery pouch, but Thrawn's arm shifted to wrap around her waist, pinning her to him. She wheezed, a disappointed shout crushed out of her. She started to try and squirm her way out of his iron grip when a sudden and devastating sense of her situation flooded her.  
She became acutely aware of how much of her body was held flush against his, of the heat he exuded, of their rapid, puffing breaths, of his gaze on her. She felt incredibly grateful for the exertion, as she could not possibly get any redder in the face than she already was. Her mind whirred in helpless circles, incapable of coming up with a solution to her predicament.

'So feisty,' Thrawn said, interpreting her reaction as a sign of surrender. 'Let me offer you a deal. We fight it out with a game. If I win, you show me these mysterious kifus.'

'And if I win?'

He relaxed his grip on her, letting her feet fully touch the ground again. He lowered the kifu bag down for her to hold but he did not let her, or the bag go.

'You can ask something of me, within reason.'

'Okay, fine,' she said.

He released her. She looked at him warily, but he only smiled back at her. She huffed, and walked over to BT, taking slow steps to give herself the time to tame her feelings and regain some composure. The droid was anxiously curling her sixteen fingers back and forth, her eyes flickering.

'Here, BT. You started all of this, so be helpful now.'

Maiya handed her the pouch of kifus.

'Of course mistress! Are you... alright?'

'I'm fine, though no thanks to you. Keep this safe until we come back. And be sure to not let anyone else in, no matter who they are. Understood?'

'Yes mistress.'

'Are we not playing our game?' Thrawn asked.

She looked at him, scanning his face for any signs of agitation. Goddess knew she could still feel her heart pushing against her ribs, but he only smiled, the same hungry lothcat grin he'd shown her when he believed victory was at hand.

'Not a zunzu game. I'm too rattled for it, I think.'

'You have something else in mind?'

It was time to shake things up a little. Time for a prompt revenge, while her blood still ran hot.

'I promised to show you the zero-G playground, didn't I?'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for your patience! That little holiday break was amazing, I wrote a bunch of ridiculous crack fics too, because I don't know how to take real breaks... But now it's time to get back deep in the Thrawn verse... Since I'm on lockdown, I will do my best to make it weekly again, but I must beg some patience from you for the first kiss chapter... I typically write depressing shit. I think I only ever wrote one first kiss before in my life, so this will be #daunting. 
> 
> Big thank you to my nerd pal Vince, after whom Vinmara is named, he helped me come up with a lot of stuff in this chapter when I hit a bit of a creative wall.  
> Another big thanks to my friend [Citrusvulpes](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/tucbilo) who beta'd this chapter too!
> 
> See you all soon with a Che'ri chapter.


	14. Zero Gravity Entanglement

A few days ago Maiya had walked by Thrawn's side on their way to the gallery, peppering him with questions and quick to tease. Now she walked a step ahead, silent, her hair - it was his first time seeing it loose - swaying to the cadence of her brisk strides. Her roots had grown more visible and he found the sight enticing. Like a robe both obscuring and hinting at the shapes of the body bellow, the white appeared to tease a magnificent head of dark hair. He felt the desire to reach out for it, to let its waves glide through his fingers.  
He asked her another question instead.

'How do you wish to tally the points, if we are not using your daggers?'

She glanced at him over her shoulder. 'We'll be doing the children's classic of catching wrists and ankles.'

'That's it?'

'It's easiest,' she said before turning away again, pace never faltering. 'It's a whiteout mobility exercise. Teams often use it for practice and warm-up. Cleaning suits just takes too long.'

Thrawn smiled to himself. Maiya, unlike most humans he'd encountered since joining the empire, did not lose her patience in the face of his own numerous questions. Instead he'd found she treated their conversations the same way she did zunzu games, going down the many branching paths it could lead and narrowing them to a main avenue, one in which she could insert her own questions and learn as much as she taught. The more he asked, the longer and broader her answers tended to become.

Today they were uncharacteristically clipped.

He had unsettled her earlier, that much was obvious. It hadn't been his intention, though it must be counted as a small victory if they were to battle it out: a good warrior ought to rejoice at the prospect of an opponent thrown out of balance.  
But as he watched her white hair swing and part to reveal the tip of still-flushed ears, he felt something else stir in him. An underlying emotion, something akin to trepidation, that was new to him.  
The intensity of her reaction over the kifus had taken him by surprise. Her usual controlled mask had been replaced by pouts and huffs and squinty-eyed promises to turn him into _"a blighted torus knot"_ and other colourful threats, which only served to increase his curiosity manifold. He couldn't tell if it was some quirk of her peculiar upbringing, or simple pettiness, but he found it adorable.

'We're here,' Maiya said, taking him out of his reverie.

She keyed a blast door open, revealing a long corridor with signs and illustrations hand-painted on the walls. Thrawn slowed down, admiring the work. The art had the quality and enthusiasm of a colourful children's holobook, and depicted humans and other aliens in various scenes, from the rules of zero-G games to lists of forbidden activities within the bubble: no food was allowed inside, no shoes, no ropes (it wasn't quite clear why) and no weapons (a late addition he found rather amusing).  
Maiya took a marker from a board and jotted down the time and their names.

The corridor opened into a room very much like a small dojo. There were bars and finger-boards along the left wall and on the right rows of cubical storage and hooks, already partly filled. Ahead, a large opening led into a white space reverberating with children's voices, lively and chaotic.  
The floor was padded, and Thrawn followed Maiya's lead, taking off his shoes before stepping in.

'Take your socks off too, you'll get better traction on the walls barefoot. Or you can use this,' she said, opening a transparisteel cabinet that housed a variety of bacta sprays and bandages. She selected a roll of black tape and tossed it to him. It was standard sport tape, popular in dojos across the empire.

'Are those often needed?' He asked.

'What, the tape?'

'No, the bacta.'

'Oh. Well, not if you're careful, but the material of the anchors - the big volumes in the bubble - is rough. It's for scratch cuffs. If you get flung on them, you can get a nasty burn.'

Zero gravity carpet burns _somehow_ hadn't occurred to him.

'Bruises too,' Maiya went on, 'and broken noses and split lips. You know how kids are. Better safe than sorry, and besides the medbay isn't close.'

Thrawn hummed non-committally. He knew how children were, what with having been one himself and no stranger to the odd split lip, but he hadn't expected such a list of injuries for what Maiya had essentially described as a children's playground.

He walked to the opening to look inside the bubble proper. It was much larger than he had anticipated, big enough to accommodate twenty moving adults comfortably, and more than enough for the handful of children currently buzzing about, playing a ball game. The walls were white and of the same material as the floor under his feet, with occasional breaks for what looked like handholds. Two of the children were "standing" on the ceiling, from his point of view, with their feet hooked under such handles. Four large dodecahedrons of different colour broke the emptiness of the bubble's inner space, providing more surface to bounce off of or slow down. They indeed had a fuzzy quality to them.

'Come on,' Maiya said, tugging on his sleeve, 'let's do our stretching. We'll need it.'

'What should I do with my robe?' Thrawn asked, shrugging off the garment.

'Just put it on a peg.'

He frowned, looking at the robe in his hands, with its silver embroidered sleeves.

'Is it quite safe?'

Surely, he thought, she would not want to leave it where just anyone would be able to take it and walk away with it? It was her father's and only lent to him... But she waved his concern away.

'Thrawn, we'll get plenty sweaty in there. Don't start sweating stuff now.'

He grumbled, rolled the robe in a tight ball and tucked it behind his boots, hopefully out of sight, and went to join her down on the floor.

They stretched in silence for a while, each doing their own exercises. Before long, Maiya was giving him suspicious looks.

'Wait,' she said, 'just... how far can you go with that leg?'

'About... here.'

'Kriffing hells,' she exclaimed as he hooked his foot behind his head. 'Is it even legal to be that supple at your age?'

'Don't be offensive,' he replied, hiding his pleasure under a haughty look, 'I stretch every day whether I train or not. A warrior–'

'-Should be able to kick an opponent from over his shoulder?'

'Impractical at best. But I've been watching you too, and you hardly need me to educate you on the benefits of a flexible body.'

'Uhuh... Still seems unnatural to me. So, say, for my winning prize, can I dissect you? Vivisection is fine as well.'

'I remember saying something _within reason_.'

'I'm a reasonable person, making reasonable requests.'

'I'm starting to doubt that.'

She laughed, falling over in the middle of an attempt to imitate his pose. They established that what she lacked in lower body flexibility, she more than made up for in her upper body. While Thrawn could hardly connect his fingers behind his back, Maiya could give herself a generous handshake.  
Once they'd gained a good grasp of how far they could contort themselves, Maiya started to tape her feet. She showed Thrawn how to use the tape on his trousers as well, to keep them out of the way. Her own pants had a string in the hem which allowed her to tie them up over her calves.

'Now, in this zero-G bubble,' she said, 'kids wear scratch cuffs on their wrists and around their knees to slow down or stop themselves on the anchors. It's the ultra cheap option, and they're not allowed to play in there alone or unsupervised. We normally have a droid that can come fetch you if you're stuck, but it's out for repairs.'

'Whiteout uses the expensive option?' Thrawn asked, curious.

'Whiteout uses nothing. The anchors there are just white duraplast with notches for handholds or footholds. They're smaller too. If you get stranded in the middle of the arena, a droid or a teammate will come get you. Then you have to live that down... No, the more expensive option are grav cuffs. They're must haves if you want to train alone.'

'These, I presume,' Thrawn asked, pointing at the metal rings she'd brought along with her from Keykaf. They were a dark grey colour with "Kaiden" painted in white on each of them. They seemed well worn, the metal scratched and the paint scuffed in places.

'Exactly. I only have two, so we'll have to share. People tend to wear them around their ankles and activate them with their toes but if you're wearing a single one it's easier to wear it around the knee and activate it by hand.'

She adjusted the cuff on him, placing it snug over his right knee. He found it surprisingly heavy, though it soon wouldn't matter.

'You activate it by pressing here, and it'll take you straight to where is the closest "down" from it. It senses the grav mesh in the walls, which is still there, simply inactive. Also, having it on your ankle is a lot like using gravboots, but over the knee, well, be mindful when landing or it'll make you kneel and topple forward. Since only one knee is bound by gravity, it's not a pleasant tumble.'

He nodded, trying on the controls. 'What use can we make of it?'

'None,' Maiya said, giving him a wry smile. 'This is in case you're stuck in space without any momentum, and no one can come to give you some. Though I'll eat both cuffs if that happens with me here.'

'Emergency use only then?'

'I mean, we could use them in some other way. It's nice to correct your course or dodge, but it would complicate things and defeat the point. So let's not use them if we don't have to.'

'Alright. Any other rule I should be aware of?'

'Don't go for the eyes, I guess?'

' _Maiya_...'

She cackled, her expression turning wicked. 'Your kneecaps are safe, I swear.'

'I wasn't worried about them before, but now I wonder...'

She swatted his arm, rose and offered him a hand up. 'Show some trust,' she said, her smile still far from reassuring.

She fished a band from a pocket and tied up her hair in a compact bun.

'Are you confident?' She asked, looking him up and down.

'If you are trying to ask if I am ready, then yes.'

'No, I mean, you accepted this challenge very readily. But you didn't train as a space trooper, did you? I bet there are pretty big chapters on terrain advantage in your books and treatises on warfare.'

Thrawn walked with her to the bubble's opening, shaking his head. What advantage she thought she had might yet be counter-balanced by his own martial expertise. He was not confident per say, but simply curious.

'So am I,' she said when he told her as much. 'I'm curious to see how you do, but I don't mind the advantage either way. You sneaked up on me back at the cafe. I'm not about to go easy on you now.'

And with these words, Maiya stepped out into the void.

Thrawn reached out for her, an automatic gesture that made her chuckle. She took his hand and held it. She was floating there, weightless, tethered only by his touch.

'It's fine, come on in, just hold on to the railing,' Maiya said, pointing at bars sticking out of each side of the opening. 'You'll want to have some point of reference.'

He followed her advice and grabbed the bar before taking a step forward.

Suddenly he was floating. He twisted around, his body jerking, fighting to regain a lost sense of balance. It had been a long time since his last experience in zero-G. Decades, even, as far back as drills aboard the Springhawk. Chiss ships had excellent gravity support and like in the empire, the training was kept to a minimum outside of specialised troops.

Maiya squeezed his hand, asked him if he felt sick. He shook his head, fighting off the nausea always brought on by sudden weightlessness.

'I will be alright in a minute. I need to acclimatise.'

'Remember. Down is where you want it to be,' she said. 'Take some time getting used to it. I'll go ask the kids to leave us the room.'

She boosted off of the wall to join the group of children. They whooped and called her out by name. They caught her, slowing her down and swarming her. They all moved with the ease of experience, latching on to Maiya's limbs, clamouring for her attention. They spoke over one another and tussled, pushing off of each other playfully.  
One young boy in particular was loud in his challenges, and tried to lock Maiya's left arm behind her back. She shook him off and snatched him by his ankle before he could glide away, to the absolute delight of his friends.

Thrawn, now confident that his lunch wouldn't try to escape him, pushed himself off the wall and coasted towards the group in time to catch the tail end of their argument.

'Lemme go!' The boy groaned, squirming. 'You're gonna break my leg!'

'Your mom would probably thank me if I did, Cody.'

'Are you gonna fight?' A small human girl asked Thrawn. She gave him a gap-toothed smile, big eyes glistening with excitement.

'We will have a little match,' he answered diplomatically.

The declaration was greeted with enthusiastic yawps. Maiya herded the children away, tossing the younger ones at their insistence. Thrawn watched, idly wondering how many of these children would grow up to consider a career in the space troops, how many of his own troopers had grown up in such space stations, spending their free time playing in zero gravity. He certainly could see the appeal.

'You better not mind an audience,' Maiya said as she sent the gap toothed girl to join the rest of the kids with a throw that nearly toppled her over against the anchor.

The children hooked themselves to the rails, settling down to observe the "battle" with the same sort of ebullient energy he'd seen in the crowds of players at the Keykaf. They too were expecting a showdown.

'If my ego could survive that second zunzu game against you, I think I can weather the judgment of children. Shall we start?' He asked, activating the ring about his knee to fall down and away, until he reached the other side of the bubble from Maiya.

'Yes. Best out of three points. And Thrawn: no quarters.'

She pushed off the anchor and drifted up, or falling down to the ceiling that wasn't one... rotating herself and looking down - _up, from her point of view_ \- at him.

The mental space of the bubble around him was still dizzying. He understood the physics, the mechanic of it all, but he was slower to adjust than he would have liked.

Maiya gave him a small wave to indicate the start of the round and shot away from the wall. Thrawn stayed where he was, the bubble's surface a meter or so bellow his feet. He would have low mobility, but was happy to sacrifice that advantage to give himself more time to adapt and to better analyse Maiya's movements.  
Those, it turned out, were economical and precise.

She bounced from one anchor to another, gaining speed, and then towards him. He braced himself for impact, putting his arms up in a lose guard. She slammed into him feet first, heels digging into his belly, forcing the air out of him in a gasp.  
He'd misjudged her angle. _Badly_.  
Maiya propelled herself away again, toes digging into the fabric of his tunic, sending him spinning sideways. Thrawn lashed out, trying to catch one of her ankles, but the momentum of the impact had been too great, and they were already hurtling away from each other.  
He bounced against the wall, cursing in Cheunh as he fumbled for a handhold. It seemed she'd meant it when she'd said _no quarters_. He followed her arc across the bubble. She was staring back at him, her face returned to a studied blank. If she was pleased with her successful strike, she didn't show it.  
Her hair, already starting to shake loose from her bun, floated in a pale halo around her face. For a moment he thought of the pantoran moon goddess, always depicted with an aureole, but then Maiya was hurtling back towards him and for a while he could think of nothing but vectors, angles of attack, and grappling holds. He was faintly aware of their young spectators, cheering from the sidelines, but Maiya had his undivided attention.

Her abysmal footwork in their earlier scuffle at her cafe made a lot more sense to him now. A frightening amount of his fighting technique had been tossed out of the airlock by the absence of gravity. His punches and kicks dissipated before doing much harm, his balance was precarious, and she was running loops around him. But Thrawn was a patient man, and in the end, the superior grappler.  
Eventually Maiya came too close at the wrong time, and he grabbed her by the back of her shirt, pulling her to him, sending them spinning. She squawked in protest and kicked back blindly. Thrawn grunted when her heel connected with his knee, vaguely wondering if she'd truly be the death of his kneecap in the end, but held on. He trapped one of her legs between his to pin her to him, and made full use of his superior reach.

'Point to me,' he said when he'd caught her wrist.

He looked at her eagerly, curious to see how she would react, only to find his emotion reflected back at him. It seemed he hadn't been the only one gauging his opponent.

'That was a suspiciously good move,' she said, squinting at him, 'I suppose all that warrior talk isn't for nothing.'

He laughed. 'You flatter me.'

'Hardly. Point well earned.'

They pushed each other apart, floating back to opposite sides of the bubble before starting their weightless dance again.

This time Thrawn forced himself to move.

As expected, this added a whole new dimension to the game, as confusing as it was exhilarating. It was difficult to keep track of an opponent that could go from facing you to being under your feet in a second, and above your head the next.

The children kept on cheering, calling out Maiya's name or the occasional "Blue Guy", followed by taunts or advice such as "catch her" or "on your left" and "faster!"

He certainly tried, but Maiya was back to flying circles around him.

As he reached out to catch her sleeve she caught his hand, intertwining their fingers.

'Hands don't count,' she quipped, and with a jerk, she pulled herself back down to him, twisting her body around to sidle up behind his back. She hooked a leg over his, and before he could twist away, wrapped her free arm around his throat to choke him.

Thrawn saw red. This manoeuvre had completely blind-sided him. His hand jerked up reflexively to free himself, a move she'd counted on.

She caught his wrist and relaxed her hold.

'And one point for me,' she exclaimed, laughing. 'I thought I'd lost it for a moment!'

'I don't know what you mean,' Thrawn said, breathless.

 _Lost what? Her talent? Preposterous._ He felt a tidal wave of emotions rise in him, crashing through his barriers, drowning out any second guessing.

He grabbed Maiya's collar, drew her down to him, and kissed her. She made a little noise of surprise against his lips and then leaned into him.

He'd thought of that moment for days. He'd wondered how much of it was a possibility he'd squandered by pushing her away, how much were the projections of a psyche starved of love for so long. She was beautiful, and her bright mind and happy manners had endeared her to him beyond his wildest predictions.

And now here she was in his embrace, legs wrapped around his waist to keep them from drifting apart, kissing him back, cupping his face with her cool hands.

When she bit his lip, it was his turn to make a surprised noise.

Maiya wrested herself away, looking bewildered and wild eyed, her skin starting to shine like a rising sun. In the distance their young spectators were booing the unexpected display of affection. Maiya slapped her hands over her face, eclipsing her blush.

'Are you- Is this- _What is this?!_ '

Thrawn hummed, uncertain if "that was a kiss" would earn him a smile or a slap, and not sure what else to say.

Thrawn was a man most at ease with a good grasp of his situation and a scheme or two on the go, with several more up his sleeves. When Eli had come knocking on his door, disrupting his brooding with a couple of ISB reports, Thrawn had reached a decision, done what he did best and crafted a plan. He knew he wanted Maiya in his life, no matter how misguided a choice that might prove to be in the end. He would regret being dishonest with himself, and with her.  
He'd made his way to the Keykaf, and his plan had gone skipping sideways ever since, constantly needing adjustment and revision, until now. He'd tossed all the steps away and put into actions what he had not managed with words.

So this, really, was a successfully failed plan to fix his previous misstep.

'You are not angry with me, are you?' He asked, tugging on Maiya's wrists to reveal the glorious sight of her bashfulness.

'No!' She said, voice a little high, staring at his collarbone to avoid meeting his eyes. 'Why would I be?'

'Well, given the way I left last time... I believe this could be interpreted as some rather... Mixed messages.'

'Damn right,' she said, 'so what does this mean? Is this okay? You and I, I mean.'

'I've established that it is.'

She scoffed. 'Established? Did you hold a meeting with all of you and yourself, and after much deliberation, all voted in favour?'

Ironically, that was pretty much how it had happened.

'Indeed. What does presiding your own committee tell you?' He asked. 'Are your votes in my favour?'

She gave him a wounded look, as if forgetting to be shy or upset for a moment.

'I thought my...'–she grimaced–' _overtures_ , the other night, would have answered that already. Yes. It's unanimous.'

Thrawn smiled fondly at her. She was showing him so many interesting expressions today.

'Also... Does this mean I get two points?' He asked, squeezing her wrists, 'or should we go for another round?'

Maiya huffed, jerked her hands free, and seizing his collar, retaliated with a kiss of her own.

'I like to be the one with the element of surprise,' she said, when they parted.

'So do I.'

'Yes. In that respect I imagine we're very much alike. But I acted first, and you still managed to spring on me like this. You're terrible.'

'I strive to uphold your expectations of me as a ruthless holodrama villain. Another round then?'

Maiya sighed, shook her head.

'No way. It appears that driving me to distraction is your theme for the day. Let's call it even. I'll show you the kifu and just trust that you won't arrest me for them.'

'Arrest you for owning kifu?' Thrawn exclaimed, incredulous. 'What, are they stolen from the emperor's personal stash?'

She gave him a pained look. 'What have I ever done to make you think I could be that stupid? Besides, does the emperor even play zunzu?'

'I don't believe so, but I must admit I am grasping at straws here.'

'So you promise?'

'Not to arrest you when I see the games you bought? I think I can manage that.' He cocked his eyebrows, gave her a smug smile. 'I can promise you that if I _must_ arrest you, you may have a head-start.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh did I make you guys wait this time...  
> Are you seeing a pattern here, dear reader? Where I declare each new chapter the hardest? Well, surprise surprise, this was the hardest yet! I think I might not be well suited for writing romance, or the build up to it... So be warned, I expect next chapter might be the hardest yet. I'll rest a little before tackling it, but we're soon moving into more action, which (I hope) will have me more at ease. The current ballpark is for me to end this around chapter 20. It'd be pretty bleak if I went past 24, but this was supposed to be like "10 chapters of fun tops" before I came down with longfic disease so, yeah!  
> Reading everyone's comments and support has been fantastic and a great help, and I've got to thank my buddy Vince for hearing me moan more than usual on this one, and all the lovely folks on discord at Star Wars Fanfiction as they gave me serious concrit and encouragement.  
> I'll try to keep next chapter in the 10/15 days ballpark. If you want to get in touch, you can also reach out to me [on tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/bluedaddysgirl)!  
> Love y'all, and don't forget, the official Thrawn fanfiction Greater Good is coming T-3 months! :-p


	15. Fragmented Days

'Oh, I see,' Thrawn murmured.

He hummed appreciatively, contemplating the zunzu game displayed in front of them while absent-mindedly rubbing circles on the back of Maiya's neck.

She paused the game, pointed at Dooku's placement. 'That's what we call an "ear-reddening move". Though in this case, Kit Fisto didn't have any ears to redden. It's a very rare occurrence.'

'He must have felt the sting of it anyway,' Thrawn said, 'I would have played G2's B4-A1 or B4-A4. A base or a bomber there would weaken Fisto's hold on the quadrant while remaining well connected to my own position. It would be both safe and strong.'

'That's the most commonly accepted move in this situation, yes. Or was anyway. It's sensible. It's what green fears from blue, why he canvassed the lower quadrant. Fisto was bracing for it.'

Thrawn nodded. 'And instead, Dooku goes and plays B2 A1-A1... At first glance it looks like a mistake, it seems unsupported, too far from his troops. Then you realise the genius of it, the way it cuts Fistos's forces in three, the way it'll wreck the board even if Fisto manages to kill it. It's too late, the damage is already done...' He shook his head, eyes shining with admiration, 'it's brilliant.'

Maiya smiled at him, smitten. His keen intellect and appreciation for cunning gameplay was just as sexy as the sharpness of his cheekbones.

She chuckled. 'I'm glad to see you approve. That means you must understand my initial misgivings.'

Thrawn had taken her explanations about the kifu in stride, nodding along as she had explained their provenance and their rarity. Clearly her worries had been misplaced. She wasn't in any danger of Thrawn arresting her. Instead, she suspected she might be in danger of serving as an opponent in Thrawn's quest for his own ear-reddening move. He was nothing if not ambitious, it seemed.

Thrawn shook his head. 'I'm sorry you ever thought owning these games could get you in trouble with me. I suppose it's my fault for not showing you my art collection sooner.'

'What does it– Ooh, is it filled with questionable works? Pseudo-legal acquisitions? Maybe a few pieces still sorely missed by their original owners? Or was Dooku also a painter on the side? Wait, let me guess, collages by general Grievous. Geonosian lithographies?'

'My collections are mostly digital,' Thrawn said, 'and there is no record I know of to back up the idea that Count Dooku was an artistic soul, though he definitely left his mark on the arts.'

'Yes, the clone wars left _quite_ the mark, and on more than just the arts...'

Maybe sensing the edge of bitterness in her voice, Thrawn pulled her down onto the platform, falling back among her countless pillows, distracting her with soft kisses, weaving his fingers through her hair, cupping her face.

There was a quiet, collected assurance to the chiss now that they both knew where they stood that Maiya found terribly attractive.

'I imagine the entire kifu collection would give great insight into Dooku's mind,' Thrawn said, fingers tracing her tattoos before disappearing back into her hair. 'It would be worth a fortune, for a connoisseur.'

'Mmmhmm, is that an offer I'm hearing?'

'How much would you ask for them?'

'How much is the Chimaera worth?'

Thrawn laughed at that. 'And what, exactly, would you do once you owned an imperial I-class star destroyer?'

'Bully entire planets into surrendering all their best kifus? Explore the unknown regions and spread the knowledge of zunzu there? I don't know, I haven't thought that far ahead yet.'

Thrawn chuckled. 'What will you do when I come back to take my command ship with the rest of my fleet?'

Maiya gasped. 'You would dare to come and steal something you'd legally sold? You're a lout, you're a pirate!'

'Maybe,' he said, catching her wrist before she could slap his chest with fake outrage and pulling her closer to him, '–I could convince you to sell it back to me.'

Maiya felt herself grow hot and greedier under his hungry kisses and caresses. Hands roamed beneath shirt and tunic, tugging and pulling at straps and buttons, seeking skin.

Maiya huffed then, sat back up, straddling him. She rolled their half discarded clothes into a ball to toss across the room. She nudged him to bring his knees up and leaned her back on to them, looking down at him. He had a chiselled physique, exactly what you'd expect from someone who could strain the seams of his sleeves in a flex. It was an incredible view from here. She took his hands in hers.  
 _All in good time. And first–_

'Are you feeling comfortable with us going forward?' She asked, serious.

Thrawn took a moment to consider her question. To his credit his gaze did not stray from her face as he considered his answer.

'I am, yes. I want this. I'm not entirely sure what to expect, I've never had… that sort of _interaction_ with humans before. But I trust we'll make the best of it.'

Maiya inclined her head, acknowledging the compliment that was his trust.

'Any other aliens?'

He shook his head. 'No. Just chiss.'

'Was it lonely all this time then?' She asked as she bent down to kiss his neck, his collarbone, his shoulder...

'I've always been content with my work,' he murmured, shivering under her lips.

'Married to your duty? Would that make me your mistress?' Maiya asked, crooning, trying not to laugh in the middle of such a serious conversation.

'I cannot divorce myself from my duty,' he replied, running with the metaphor. 'Would it be alright with you?'

She looked into his eyes, so intense, pale irises shimmering in a red sea, scanning her face, looking for her approval.

Surely he could tell, couldn't he? Just how _alright_ it would be? Wasn't it obvious, the craving blooming inside her, barely containable.

'More than alright,' she agreed.

Then his hands were bunched in her hair and the view became irrelevant.

* * *

Renri realised it must be a dream when he saw his mother. She was too young, dressed in a uniform she'd never wear, but it just _felt_ like her, like an aura radiating out of this severe imperial officer that screamed "mother".

And besides, the dead only ever visited him in his sleep.

 _I can't do this_ , he said, pushing the flimsi back into her hands, _I'm not qualified for that!_

_But you must. You don't have a choice._

Renri tried to get away, pushing past countless palid core humans looking like shades in their white lab coats. He stepped out of the room, ignoring the calls of _you must, you must!_ and took a right. The exit was on the right. So he took a right again, and a right, and a right.

He started running.

Each time he turned to his right he entered the corridor he'd just left behind, with its lab door ajar, groping hands clawing at him.

Renri took a left, panic building.

 _Where are you going?_ Unmi asked. She was standing in his way, arms akimbo, tapping her booted foot, tap, tap, tap. _Where do you think you're going?_

Renri turned around and fled. Unmi couldn't know he was escaping.

 _Don't run_ she said, stepping out of the next junction. _You'll be leaving soon. We're selling you._

_You can't do that!_

_You're not useful anymore. We can do whatever we want._

Unmi pointed to him and he saw the shackles on his wrists, the brands in his palms.

He turned to run again, but a hand grasped his shoulder, shaking him.

'Renri! Wake up!'

'You can't–' Renri gasped, stupor holding him down into a world of corridors looped into infinity.

'Come on, you're alright!' Eli said, making soothing noises, shaking his shoulder with dogged determination.

Renri groaned, rolling onto his side, brushing the nightmare from his eyes. He looked through the darkness of the room, finding Eli's outline, and reached out for him.

The young man took his hand, squeezed it reassuringly.

'That was a bad one huh?'

'I'm so sorry...'

'What for?' Eli asked, surprised.

He pulled Renri closer, tucking them back under the bed's thin sheet into a comfortable position. The chrono glowing on the wall told Renri it was still the middle of night shift.

'Well, sorry for not coming so often, and falling asleep almost as soon as I get horizontal,' Renri said, chuckling softly, 'and on top of that I wake you up with a nightmare.'

'That's nothing you can help. Though... Are things so tiring at work?' Eli asked, looking both curious and... what was it, worried? Wary?

Renri's exhausted mind cycled through several excuses and deflection before settling on a simple 'yes.'

Eli seemed to understand work grind well enough and was too polite to ask for details.

'Maybe I should come to you instead. It's a long trip to the Chimaera, it'd leave us more time.'

'Ooh, so considerate yet so demanding' Renri said in a melodramatic voice, hiding his face in the nook of his arm like this was all too much for him. 'Are you like this with all your lovers?'

'What lovers?' Eli sputtered.

Renri couldn't see it, but he could just tell Eli's face was turning into the living image of a planetary sunset.

'Don't you have lovers in every port of call? Like a true sailor?'

'What? No! I– Dammit, you're such a tease.' Eli huffed, hitting Renri in the ribs, starting a tussle.

'Quiet down,' Renri huffed, breathless. 'At this pace we'll never manage to go back to sleep.'

'Maybe we shouldn't?'

Renri gave the younger man a smile, lost to the darkness. Part of him was anxious for sleep, to be as rested as possible before the hurdles of the morrow, while the rest of him was shy of sleep, afraid of surrendering what tenuous control he had on his life. His mind still felt haunted, nightmares coiled in his pillow, waiting for his grip on consciousness to loosen.

Eli was looking down at him patiently. Renri wondered idly what it was like, working with him. The Lysatran had a head for numbers and patterns and a solid character under an edge diffidence. For the few days he'd known him he'd come to see him as genuine and reliable.

If he asked him, he'd probably come to him. But he wouldn't. He couldn't risk that.

Renri brushed a knuckle over Eli's cheek. 'What do you have in mind?'

* * *

'I trust everything is going all right?' Thrawn asked Eli.

'As well as we can expect from the staff here. They have the worst attitude I've seen, but then again it's my first time supervising that sort of refitting.'

Thrawn nodded, looking down at the datapad Eli had handed him. It showed estimates of the expected delays on the works.

Eli had explanations ready to go. After all it wasn't the canons themselves taking time, it was replacing the consoles that directed them throughout the ship, splicing in the newer technology, updating the software, convincing the Chimaera's AI to play nice.  
Thrawn enjoyed independence of mind and action in his subordinates, so here they were, with works being a little slower than anticipated. Renri had gotten a few of his programmers back and both Thrawn and Eli got to enjoy themselves on Padar a little while longer...  
Though Eli wasn't about to admit to anything, it was not lost on him that Thrawn didn't even bother to ask. He probably liked the estimates he saw on the datapad just fine.

'You haven't been bored, I hope?' Thrawn asked, returning the datapad.

Eli laughed at the question. 'It's so quiet with most of the staff still gone, I feel like I'm also on holidays some days. It's almost better that way than when I end up twirling my thumbs for a couple weeks on Coruscant.'

Thrawn nodded but didn't share his own perception of his holidays. Not like he needed to, with his heart-throb currently walking around the office behind him, mouth open in awe as she waved her hands through Thrawn's monstrous art collection.

'That bronze was in Fuyu's paper on bipedality!' The woman exclaimed, talking to no one in particular and pointing at a holographic sculpt of a hunched figure with four arms and gems for eyes. 'Oh Goddess it's such high quality, how did you even–?'

'Seems she's enjoying herself,' Eli noted, tilting his head in the woman's direction.

The fondness of Thrawn's smile was not entirely unexpected but still came as a surprise.

'I hope so. It's refreshing to see someone appreciate my collections for more than devising military strategies.'

'I thought you also appreciated the art for its... err... artsiness? Its inherent beauty.'

Thrawn shrugged. 'I appreciate it, but I cannot turn off the more analytical part of my brain.'

'That's from the Maas!' Maiya Kaiden squeaked in perfect timing. 'Just look at that use of red and purple, you almost can't tell over holo but it's more proof Ezan Aduri's theory is kriffing wrong about their colour perception. This piece should be studied in Basfar!'

'Neither can she apparently.'

'She gets so fired up, I must admit it's a fine spectacle.'

'Have you told her yet?' Eli asked in a low voice.

Thrawn turned to him, all traces of warmth dissipating.

'No. Nor do I intend to.'

'Sir, with all due respect... Why not?'

Thrawn's lips thinned, his eyes narrowed to glowing slits. He wasn't angry, Eli could tell. He knew him too well by now, he could read the chiss like a book. This stern face was Thrawn debating with himself.

'The more I know her, the more I realise she's at a junction in her life,' he said in a confiding tone. 'I don't believe she needs the added pressure of ISB's attention. I doubt she's forgotten their overtures anyway.'

'But Vinmara–'

'I think we can look into dealing with Vinmara once we are back to being operational. Lieutenant Medri might be of some help there when he returns. You've followed the leads that Yularen suggested, haven't you?'

'I haven't found anything worth reporting,' Eli said with a shrug. 'His business down on Ord Mantell is perfectly legitimate. It's the meetings he holds up here on Padar that are on the ISB's radar. Too many blacklisted people in the same room. At the very least you should warn her about those. It won't do to be associated with Vinmara's clique if they are fomenting a rebellion.'

'A strong choice of word,' Thrawn said, waving a dismissive hand. 'Yularen believes things are under control.'

Eli gave Maiya another glance. The woman was typing at Thrawn's console, throwing more art pieces up in the air above the desk. It was gratifying in a way to know that he'd been right, that he hadn't been alone in seeing her play and think the empire needed her and twenty more like her. Yet he feared she might be more trouble than anything in the end, especially if Thrawn was catching feelings.

'I still think you should tell her.' Eli said. He didn't add that her best friend knew, that it was a matter of time before she knew as well. That she'd take it much better coming from Thrawn. It wasn't his place and he wasn't eager to throw himself out the airlock by revealing why Renri knew in the first place.

Thrawn looked at him, expression indecipherable. Eli stood his ground, unflinching. Showing weakness to a chiss was the best way to lose an argument.

'I'll think on it,' Thrawn said at last.

He turned to join Maiya, and Eli left, recognising this for the dismissal it was.

* * *

Pyla, not for the first time, and most likely not the last, wished she were human.   
She didn't harbour any particular dislike for her race or her culture, but humans could achieve so much more in terms of undercover work. A zabrak could not be disguised to look like anything but another zabrak. It sometimes made her work needlessly complicated.   
Maybe in a world where she could have painted her human face with a gang tattoo, she could have gotten this man to speak to her without violence.   
Of course she didn't exactly mind, but she disliked the effort and danger it involved about as much as she disliked overtime.

'Look,' she said to the man writhing under her boot, 'I don't get paid enough for this, and after eight I'm not getting paid at all. I'm not dumb, I know you'll run the moment I turn my back. So if I don't hear what I want to know by then, I'm tossing you out of the airlock, same way you toss people out.'

She slapped the control panel, opening the door to the service airlock with a loud clank. The man moaned, squirmed harder. She kicked him again.

'Do I need to call some colleagues?' She asked, punctuating her question with another kick. 'The ones who start their shift at eight maybe, and will be in shape to keep this up?' –and another. 

'Fuck off!' The man rasped, 'I told you! I didn't kill anyone!'

She kicked his face. Blood gushed out of his broken nose. Pyla clicked her tongue. Having to clean gore off her boots was another reason she despised violence. It was such an unrefined tool. Dirty in all senses of the term.

'You're on all security recordings. Stop wasting my precious time. I'm not joking.'

The man heaved a sob, spat a red glob on the floor, scrambling to get back on his knees.

'I thought– the security footage–'

'Yes, yes, you thought wrong. Why else would I be here otherwise, asking you? Are you finally using your brain? It's about time, it's five to eight, you know.'

He looked up at her, at the open airlock to his right, and back to her, real dread now shining in his tumefied eyes.

'What kind of station security are you, this is–' She drew her leg back for another kick and the man shied away, waving his hands to appease her. 'Okay okay, stop! Just– Yeah it was me, but it's not what you think! It's not!!'

'Enlighten me.'

'The bodies, they were dead! I didn't kill no one. Never ever killed _anyone_. I swear! I was just tossing dead bodies. I was paid, I mean, you know about this right? This is just business. Happens all the time. Gangs pay all of us to turn a blind eye, extra if we'll take the body off of them ourselves... Better than having them at the morgue right?' He sat up, wincing, looking at Pyla warily, a shaky hand staunching the flow of blood from his nose, the other patting down his bruised diaphragm. 'No one wants to involve _security_. But these ones, they came all wrapped up and already cold. I mean stiff. You say you've seen the footage so you must know! And I was paid extra not to talk about them. The woman, she said... She said it was money to forget. She said the footage would be gone. She said... I'd die if I talked!'

Pyla sighed. She squatted down to look the man in the eyes. She wanted them even, for him to see just how serious she was. 

'I'm going to tell you something important, something to motivate you to tell me everything you remember about that woman. And then you'll do exactly as she said and you'll forget about this. You'll forget so hard you'll not even speak of this in your sleep.' She clasped her hands between them, making the man flinch. It was an old trick of hers. It focused them on the hands; then she opened them, palms up, and as if releasing the ugly truth from her grasp: 'the bodies you spaced, they were imperial officers.'

The man blanched, then greyed. For a second Pyla thought he might pass out. Instead he breathed hard and looked at her with the blind devotion of someone drowning, seeing you on the other end of the rope they held on to. _Please don't let go_ that look said. _I'll do anything, just don't let go_.

Pyla smiled wide, sharp incisors and all.

'Now, talk.'

***

Pyla emerged from Padar's underbelly with a decent description of the woman who had dumped the bodies for spacing, and yet she didn't feel any closer to her goal. A "middle-aged human female with dark hair pulled into a bun" sounded like every other brunette in navy personnel, and that was assuming the woman was navy and not some local hotshot playing middle-woman. She sighed, brushing tired eyes. It was getting late in the day, but Pyla was still on the clock, no matter what she said to gang-owned garbage men.   
She made her way towards the research centre. Maybe she could talk to a couple of her contacts there if they were ending their shift. Invite some people to a drink or two–or three or four–see if the description jogged anyone's memories. Pyla needed new leads. Getting to this point had been a long and arduous process. The deaths confirmed to her things were getting above her pay grade. It was past time she requested assistance from her superiors. 

Pyla was snapped out of her brooding by an unexpected and unwelcome turn of events.

She had climbed up the stairs to one of the service corridors that wrapped around the station, used by maintenance staff and droids, and exited by a cargo door. It left her walking what could be described as "the back" of the research facility, though it had no such thing, circular and sealed as it was. The "back" was where they piled up their garbage for collection, and where any necessary service doors and panels were situated, out of sight of curious passers-by. It was the only spot that had a weak point, as far as Pyla knew: a vent grate that could be pried loose with some effort.

Right now, someone was wriggling out of it, whispered curses amplified by the hollow space they were squeezing out of. 

Pyla hid herself behind a pile of empty crates, light on her feet, and observed, baffled, until the man freed himself entirely. First one lekku came out, then another, both a bright, garish red.

 _Arman Surra_ , crawling out of a vent like some slimy pickled peatberry pudding... Now this was real trouble.   
Pyla's mind raced, trying to make connections between the strings of numbers at the source of everything, the laundered money, the murders, and now... Vinmara's group? It didn't make any sense. _What is going on in this station?_

She glanced over her cover, watching the Twi'lek retreat, tugging at his worker's jacket and disappearing into a service tunnel with the swagger of someone belonging there.

Yes, Pyla needed backup, and she needed it yesterday. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whelp, maybe it truly was the romance build-up making my brain constipated. I wrote that Pyla PoV in one sitting dang it! 
> 
> OK anyway, buckle up folks, this is where the action of the "action and romance" tag comes into play. Kark is about to hit the fan.
> 
> Wishing you all a lovely weekend!!


	16. Fools In Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Amazing Maiya Fanart! 
> 
> Courtesy of [ILoveDragonsALot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ILoveDragonsALot/profile), who remains one of the best readers a fanfic author can dream of <3  
> Tattoos in white, togruta style, look so fly, I should have gone with it. This headcanon pleases me to no end, it's amazing <3<3

It was incredible, Thrawn thought, how few days it had taken to alter his everyday reality. Repetition, he felt, might be key. New routines making for a new life.

For years he'd woken to nothing but his goals, short, mid, and long term, keeping him company as he went through all the motions of duty, all the research, the work, the unpalatable politicking. All for the sake of grand plans more than a decade in the making.

Now when he opened his eyes he woke with a woman nestled against him, skin to skin, breath deep in trustful sleep. His plans extended to the day, the places he might go, the restaurant she might take him to... Or sometimes he woke to the sound of her showering, and watched her as she dressed, as she braided her hair, knowing full well the glare of his eyes in the darkened room gave his attention away. She would come back to him and kiss him before going down the stairs to open her cafe, and before long the earthy smell of ground kaf would rise up with the chirping voices of customers and the din of the kaf machine.  
In such moments, closing his eyes, Thrawn could almost forget the galaxy spinning around him.

 _Routine_ was maybe not the best choice of word. There were no set schedules and no fixed plans. Some nights they spent in his rented flat, some at Maiya's. They cooked for each other or ate out on a whim. Sometimes he went on his own to explore the station while she worked, often returning to Padar's library. He read for pleasure, a luxurious past-time he was glad to return to.  
Although as word of his prowess at zunzu spread along with the kifus of his games against Maiya, sitting to read in the cafe became a risky endeavour, often leading to someone challenging him. Those games drew a lot of attention and got him more free drinks than he could quite manage, but it was... _entertaining_.

He still fought Maiya daily, and major Sa'ronz once, when the man came in to visit his friend. He looked at Maiya imploringly, darting anxious glances at Thrawn, but resigned himself to his fate when she pushed him down behind the console and instructed him to do his best and show Thrawn what he was made of.

Tough stuff, as it turned out. Thrawn wasn't sure why the major was so reluctant. He fielded a terrific defence and made him pay dearly for every captured ship. Thrawn only won by ten points, and held the major in much higher esteem for it.

'You should have him fight Penmuir,' Sa'ronz said to Maiya when they were done reviewing the game and onlookers had dispersed.

'Penmuir?' Thrawn asked, the name sounding vaguely familiar.

'A chagrian player. Another local name,' Sa'ronz explained. 'He's fighting at the masters on Coruscant right now.'

Thrawn remembered a purple skinned chagrian getting a service of Maiya's sass when he'd first walked into the Keykaf.

'That's right, that was him,' Maiya said. 'And I think not, Renri. He's in the quarter finals! He worked so hard for it, and you know him... Thrawn blasting him into dead space is the last thing he'd need.'

Thrawn had no notion that he could defeat someone on his way to a potential win at the Coruscant masters, but Maiya laughed in his face when he said as much.

'Of course you could. You've won five games against me so far, and I was a grandmaster for four years. I successfully defended the master's title once, but you could well have stolen it from me.'

'You... were? A grandmaster?' Thrawn asked, astounded. 'You never mentioned that!'

'You never did?' Sa'ronz laughed.

'Heh–' Maiya shrugged. ' _The wise zunzu master keeps their secrets close to their heart and far from their lips_. It would have been quite unwise to have you scour the holonet in search of my very publicly listed games. And then... I don't know, it's not really relevant.'

'How is it not?'

The major glanced at Thrawn, trying to smother his laughter behind his hand. Thrawn glowered back at him. 'A _big local name_ , were your words then too I believe, major Sa'ronz.'

'It wasn't a lie sir! True, I could have said "in the sector", but Maiya was already on to me for saying that much–'

'Yes, give him a break,' Maiya cut in, 'I'd have broken his foot if the word master had come out of his mouth.'

'You're such a good friend,' Sa'ronz said, his laugh a touch more nervous. 'Time to make my exit before any new evidence against me comes to light.' He hugged Maiya, gave Thrawn a discreet bow and made for the door.

Thrawn was about to enquire after what he'd meant by that when three togruta customers came in. Maiya left to help her droid as the trio ordered their drinks, chatting with her in togruti with the easy manners of regulars.

He had his book out and open and was ready to get back to his reading when what sounded like an argument broke out. It looked a lot like one too. One of the togruta men was speaking vehemently, the dance of his hands imploring one moment and demanding the next. Thrawn stared, his curiosity quickly turned to irritation by the tone the man was taking with Maiya. His two friends remained placidly by his side, observing the exchange, seemingly unconcerned.

Thrawn knew too little togruti to follow and was left to interpret the conversation with what fragments he could catch.

' _Nah! Prrishk'ti_ ,' Maiya said with an air of finality, ' _mi e' nah'k'ya sa tunguma shi makkiso! Mi viidakk ke bhat!_ '

 _Tunguma_ , daughter, and _bhat_ , to teach, did not clarify things.

' _Unt da! Rak unt da!_ ' The man exclaimed, making a wide gesture with his arms, encompassing the cafe before pointing firmly at Maiya. ' _Yeh sa baht du tunguma. Sa khos Atawai n' kaf dau'ahk asem det mig gorr us'shikk en!_ '

 _Unt da_ was a day, Atawai was the name of Maiya's _khos_ , her father. And kaf, well...

' _Om!_ ' Maiya growled– _stop–_ before launching in a quiet but intense stream of togruti Thrawn could not follow, pronounced as it was behind clenched and bared teeth. It muffled the words beyond recognition for him, but the togruta man replied in the same manner, and so did the woman who finally intervened, jerking him by the sleeve of his mechanic's suit.

' _Om, yeh ta!_ ' Was all he caught from her, but she was clearly taking Maiya's side.

Thrawn relaxed, turning back to his book as the dispute wound down and the togruta finally left the cafe. A few of the patrons who had been glancing in their direction also returned to their games or their drinks. No one had made a move or looked like they might have. Thrawn wondered if such confrontations were an ordinary thing.

'Got your blood boiling for a second there?' Maiya said as she walked back to him with a small smile. 'Calm your ire, O chiss warrior. Yhendo is a _dunga ta_ , a rude fool, but he only ever means well.'

'What is it, that he means so well,' Thrawn asked, 'if you don't mind telling me.'

Her smile twisted wryly. 'What? You're not fluent in togruti yet? What a disappointment. Hey, don't look at me like that. You're the one setting the high standards!' She sighed, fingers playing mindlessly with one of her braids. 'His daughter is of age. On Shili she would be taken to hunt, but he has no relatives left there. He doesn't want her to struggle the way he did only to end up a mechanic on the deepdock with subpar nonhuman pay. He's desperate to get her an apprenticeship. Apparently she really enjoys cooking, so he's been trying to convince me to take her on for... a while now. I've told him no before, so I told him no again. I don't have the time or the inclination. Now he thinks I'll change my mind if I take her on a trial period.'

Ah, Thrawn thought, for _rak_ _unt da_... Just a day.

'He mentioned your father?'

'Yes, Atawai Kaiden was a pretty big name in this corner of the togruta community. This cafe is more famous than you realise, I think. Or was, at least. The demographic has shifted a little. But being a kaf'orh is seen as a reputable and profitable trade. Yhendo thinks if his daughter became part of Atawai's kaf'orh lineage, she could ride the reputation back to Shili and set herself up.'

'Is he correct to think so?'

'Who knows. Yes, maybe. Though I don't know where he thinks she'd make enough money to pay for passage there and then open her own shop. She's a bright kid though, I wish he'd set her up for a student scholarship at Bar'leth university, or even Reena. They're good to non-humans.' She shrugged again, gave Thrawn a pointed look. 'It's not my problem, I don't want to make it mine either. I have enough on my plate. Speaking of plate, what's on yours for tomorrow?'

'Whatever you would serve me,' he said, curious.

'Can you get us a shuttle?'

'Where to?'

'That's a surprise.'

Even when they sat themselves in their shuttle the next day, Maiya would not reveal their destination. She typed coordinates in the nav computer instead, and following those, Thrawn flew them down to Ord Mantell, past the capital and over an ocean before coming down on the coastline of a northern continent. He landed near a large complex of ruins, feeling his excitement build.

They turned out to be old Faleen religious monuments full of colourful murals and ancient statues in various states of degradation.

'Oh, this is fantastic,' he said as he walked among them, 'if only I had–'

'A holomapper?' Maiya cut in, producing a small device and handing it to him. 'I figured you might want one.'

 _What is this feeling_ , he wondered, pulling her close, wrapping her in an embrace as she giggled against his chest. _Please_ , he thought, laying his cheek down on her head, eyes tightly shut, _please, let it not be love._

* * *

Unlike Thrawn, Maiya welcomed their new intimacy without any particular misgivings. Thrawn wasn't the first _hata wahso_ to grace her bed and stick around for a while. Well, it was _his_ bed at the moment, back from their trip on Ord Mantell, but still... He also probably wouldn't be the last. She recognised in herself the early signs of a budding and misguided love, and knew she'd be in trouble when he left, but she accepted her fate with some philosophy. Those were tears meant to be shed in the future, as the togruta saying went.

She was glad her plan with the ruins had worked. She had wanted to see him happy and to pay him back for their gallery night _date_ , for lack of a better word, but also to distract him for a while, turn the tables on him and have him be the one in focus for a change.

Thrawn had opened the floodgates of his curiosity since they'd gotten together and it was an odd feeling, being on the receiving end of the wall of questions. Tiring, if gratifying. She couldn't complain, Thrawn was an educated conversationalist, his interests often overlapped her own, and their back and forth could grow lively.  
His mind was so different, making instinctual associations and leaps in logic, working his way back to the known facts, whilst Maiya's worked by exhausting all options, running back and forth until things clicked. It was fascinating, really.

She watched him fondly as he described the details of his manoeuvres to capture a ship during his campaign against an alien race he called the nikarduns.

For all that he was naked, propped up against pillows to better depict ship movements with his hands, he expressed himself with more gravitas than usual. The admiral was showing through the elated man and his boyish candour.

'This of course landed me in a court-martial.' He concluded, hands falling back to rest in his lap.

'No way!' Maiya exclaimed, laughing. 'That's the third! And you flounced them!'

'Against orders,' he said, shrugging.

'Yet your superiors didn't dispute your results, since they kept putting you back in command. Courting with disaster and acting all shocked when the inevitable happens? Sounds capricious.'

'The admiralty didn't dispute the results. The Syndicure was the one disputing... everything.'

'So you were a dyed-in-the-wool maverick already,' Maiya said, moving to lay against him again. He was like a mobile heating unit, she felt like a lothcat stretching itself over a radiator. She would purr if she could.

'How did you ever convince the Emperor to take you on with a reputation like that?' She asked, twisting her head back to look up at him, half expecting he wouldn't answer her.

He looked down at her, an eyebrow cocked, lips thinned down by some emotion she could not read.

'I believe that played in my favour.'

Ah, so that was him trying to look humble.

'How does one spin off court-martials in a positive light? I don't get it, but I'd love to learn the trick.'

'There is no trick. It is a simple matter of perspective. When I explained what led to my circumstances, how my people had exiled me for my proactive actions, the emperor sided with me.'

She snorted. 'Exile? Did he really believe that?'

Sprawled across him as she was, Maiya was privy to all the reactions that betrayed him, all the muscles twitching and contracting, in his thighs, his belly, his neck growing taunt, his jaws clenching.  
It was as bad a display as the first day she had met him, when she knew she had it in her to rough him up over a zunzu board.

'What makes you say that?' He asked, voice deceptively soft.

Maiya sighed. She wriggled against him to bring herself up to be level with him, eye to eye.

'You talk to me, and I listen. I ask you questions about your past and your people, and your answers don't line up with your official story. Your society–the chiss, I mean–doesn't strike me as the type to throw away someone like you. You describe a system of acquisition and grooming of people, families striving to get the best out of every member even as they fight for dominance. And you,' she brushed his tousled hair away from his brow, tracing down the lines of alien bone structure there, down to the tip of his nose, gave it a little tap, 'you my dear, are much too smart, much too valuable to be discarded over a code of honour. Or so I thought. Maybe you'll prove me wrong?'

Dark things roiled within his blood red eyes. Pain or hunger, she could not tell. He brought his hand up to her face, calloused fingers caressing her cheek, down her jaw, to rest against her neck.

In a flickering thought the tactician in her envisioned fingers curling around her throat, choking the life out of her for guessing too much; easily dispatched, easily forgotten.

'Please, talk no more of the past,' he whispered, 'I do not want to lie to you, and now is not the time for this.'

'Fine,' she said, 'I'm not sure I want that sort of secret on my mind anyway.'

Things did not have time to grow awkward as Maiya's comm rang with a shrill alarm. She sat up and padded to the edge of the bed, rustling through her clothes to find the dratted thing.

'Everything all right?' Thrawn asked.

'Yes, it's just BT pinging me,' she said when she'd finally gotten her hands on the comm.

Maiya kept her curses to herself. She had entrusted the shop to BT when she'd left for Ord Mantell with Thrawn. In light of the past incident with him, she had planned for their trip to take place today in order to avoid being around when Vinmara's group came in to rent the shop' space. She didn't want to annoy her lover and she didn't want to have to deal with Vinmara's reaction when he realised the admiral was still around.

BT was an anxious wreck of a clanker, but she wouldn't be buzzing her this way if everything was alright. Maiya started to dress, mind already racing ahead.

'Where are you going?'

'I need to go check out what's happening,' she said as she wriggled back into her tunic.

'Can't you just call your droid to find out what's going on?' Thrawn asked, puzzled.

'She would have called if she could, so there must still be people around.'

Thrawn frowned, and she thought she'd have to explain again how she rented the shop and need to try and keep details as vague as possible, but his mind was somewhere else entirely.

'Will you come back?' He asked, tone almost petulant.

Maiya kept her face straight with some effort. It would not do to tease him now, and risk him tagging along. 'I'll call you when I've sorted things out, whatever _things_ are, and we can take it from there. It's getting late, maybe we can just meet up somewhere for dinner?'

Thrawn nodded after a moment, a very regal _I'll allow it_ air to the gesture. She smirked, slid her feet in her sandals, and left the apartment with nothing more than a kiss blown at him from afar. She knew he would drag her down and make her stay if she went to him... And she really didn't have the time for that.

She jogged home, thinking about what could have prompted BT's call, outside of a problem with Vinmara's bunch. _Again_. If that was what it was, he would have proven himself more trouble than he was worth.  
She had half made up her mind to tell him their deal was over, and never to come back, when she arrived at Keykaf, and to her confusion, found the place deserted.

'BT? What is going on?' She called out, crossing the empty cafe.

There were no discarded cups, no dirty mugs. Had BT already cleaned up everything? What was wrong? It wouldn't be money, groups always kept a tab, the till was empty. And where was BT anyway?

'BT!' Maiya called, anxiety running cold fingers down her spine.

The door to the store room opened and BT came stumbling out.

'Mi- Mis- Mis- Misss–'

'Mistress,' Maiya prompted the droid, rushing to take her hand. She looked up into the dark, matte face a full head above her, meeting BT's flashing eyes with her own unflinching gaze, willing to ground the droid back into the here and now. 'Mistress Maiya Kaiden. It's me BT, you're alright, I'm alright.'

'Mistress...' BT finally managed, voicebox warbling in her distress. 'Mistress, you are safe! Oh, it's terrible!'

'What is? It's terrible that I'm safe? Come on BT, you need to relax and tell me what's going on. Why did you buzz me on the comm? Why were you hiding out in the storage room?'

Maiya wondered if thieves had broken in, but everything looked orderly, all the consoles in place, the poster that covered the safe door behind the counter still neat and full of smiling togrutan faces.

She guided BT to a chair and sat her down.

'Tell me what happened. Start at the beginning. Why did you ring my alarm instead of calling?'

'They were still here. They left right after. Ah! Yes, the beginning. The group came on time, but there were not many of them at first. They trickled in. I thought something was strange because there were so many new faces, and so many of them, and none were ordering any drinks.'

'Was Vinmara here?' Maiya asked.

'Yes, he arrived first, with a duros and a twi'lek.'

'The red twi from last time?'

'Yes. He comes to every gathering mistress. He is called Arman Surra, I believe.'

'Is he now?' Maiya said in a tart voice, the cynicism directed at herself more than BT, who had apparently been paying better attention than her to the people who came into the shop. Maybe Alilee was right, maybe she ought to leave BT to run the place on her own while she went and let out some steam by bagging some bounties. 'What about them then? Did they do anything wrong, besides not buying any drinks?'

'I kept going to the newcomers to see if they wanted to order anything, and they kept shooing me away. I think they were not careful because they believed me to be broken, but some of them started to discuss a terrible plot!'

'I beg your pardon?' Maiya asked, not expecting such a holodrama level line even in this unusual situation. 'A plot to do what?'

'To take over the research facility Master Renri works at.'

Maiya froze. Yes. That sounded like a holodrama plot alright, just... An eerily plausible one. The facility did advanced weapons research... Of course it'd be a prime target for an attack. It was well guarded as a result, nestled here on Padar...  
_Surely not?_

'Talk to me,' Maiya said, whipping out her comm and punching Renri's number. 'Go on, tell me everything you heard.'

BT talked as the comm hummed, unable to make a connection. Maiya tried his lab's direct line, and again the comm could not even connect. Anxiety swelled in her in acerbic waves. Every new bit of information coming out of BT, every line she'd recorded and now played back for her, only served to make her more certain. This was real. This was happening.

'So they said more people would meet them there?'

'Yes mistress, people coming on a ship. They all left after Vinmara received a signal on his comm, and I went to lock the doors behind them and to hide in case they came back and decided to wipe my memory!'

'You did well,' Maiya said through clenched teeth. They had more than fifteen minutes lead on her now. Renri could still not be reached. 'Go fetch my father's LBR-9 and wait for me here.'

When Maiya burst out of the Keykaf, she was ready for the worst case scenario. She was dressed for a fight, had her father's rifle slung over her back, her grav cuffs and a dagger at her belt. If she was wrong about all this, she'd look silly to the receptionist at the research centre, and that was something she could easily live with.  
She ran full pelt for the closest emergency stairs that connected the esplanades together in case the turbo lifts didn't work. They were closer and there would not be anyone to bother her about the gun. She punched her comm again even as she careened down the stairs.

'Maiya?' came Thrawn's voice over the comm, all sorts of questions weaved in his tone.

'There's an attack on the research facility incoming, could already be happening. I think they're targeting Renri's lab in particular but I–'

'How do you know this?' He cut her off.

'BT overheard. Group of regulars I lend the shop to. You know, you met them. The ones who gave you grief for your uniform. Brought people up the gravity well. Launched the whole thing from my kriffing cafe!' She was yelling, she realised. She lowered her voice, speaking out in chopped, breathless sentences. 'Their leader's a regular, name's Vinmara, human, thirty something. Hates the empire. From what BT heard they're after the weapon or whatever Renri's been developing–' She bit on a frustrated scream, launched herself onto the third esplanade and jumped into the first taxicar to pass her by. 'To the Tento gate, as fast as you can!' she yelled at the R2 driver. 'I'm on my way there. Renri's in danger and it's my kriffing fault, goddess carve them up!'

'Have you an idea of their numbers?' Thrawn asked, his voice still calm and composed.

'BT says there were twenty-two in the room when they left, but spoke of a ship coming to meet them.'

'I'm closer to the facility than you are, I'll meet you at the Tento gate, I'll find some manpower and alert the research facility's staff.'

'I don't think you can.'

'What do you mean?'

'By all means try but... The official line, Renri's lab and his personal comm, they're all... Not even dead, I just can't connect.'

Thrawn swore softly and was out with a final 'I'll meet you there.'

Maiya squeezed her eyes shut, her mind churning. She lacked information. Without information to narrow the possibilities, there were too many branching paths. It was maddening. BT had described enough to hint at a proper strike. An armed assault by an insurgent cell, that's what it had sounded like. An actual _plot_ , fomented over her game consoles while sipping her kaf, under her roof!  
Her pride would not allow it. She would not let such a ridiculous thing happen. The possibility that her best friend might be injured in this debacle was... She growled, balling her hands in impotent fists.  
Renri, who’d come to visit her just yesterday, who’d been so off, so nervous. She had chalked it down to Thrawn’s rank still bothering him but had it been something else?

Desperate for information, Maiya commed Pyla, breathing a small sigh of relief when the comm connected and her friend's voice greeted her.

'Pyla, I need your help–'

'What's happening? Are you alright?'

'I am but– look, I might be completely crazy, I might be worrying about nothing, and this all could just be bad timing and a bunch of laserbrains freaking BT out by roleplaying as rebels, but if I'm not crazy then there's a bunch of laserbrain _actual rebels_ attacking the research centre as we speak. I can't reach Renri, and I can't–'

'BT told you about this?' Pyla cut her off, 'was it Vinmara?'

'How do you know?'

'He's been a blasted pest on my days! But that can wait. Where are you? Why do you need help? You're not going after them, are you?'

'I was wondering if you knew anything about the security of the place. That's your job right? "Security"? I'm on my way to meet Thrawn at the Tento gate. I want to try the front door first, catch him up on what I've heard.'

'Logical. Amazing. I'll meet you there.'

'Wh– No. I mean, OK but I just wanted to know–'

'Yeah yeah, I'll meet you there and let you _know_ ,' Pyla said before shutting down her comm.

Well, that was an unexpected development. So Pyla knew more about Vinmara that she'd let on. She also felt like she could help by being there in person. She'd shown the same cool assurance Thrawn had...  
Maiya wondered what her friend did, really, in _security_ ; picking at what little new information she had in an effort to distract herself from the constant onslaught of dread. She felt her pulse in her throat, like a living thing trying to crawl its way out of her guts. She swallowed against it, hoping to push it down along with her worries.  
The shops and cantinas zipped by, the blurred outline of people and droids, looked at, yet unseen, till her glazed eyes finally landed on the looming frame of the Tento gate.  
It was an overwrought structure made of painted duraplast and transparisteel that served as a visual divider between sections of the great ring of Padar's esplanades. It split the Tento ward from Maiya's Ursa ward. It had a mag train stop at its bottom named after it, and little else of significance.

But beyond its decorated pillars, on the right side of the central divide, lay the only official and public entrance to Padar's advanced weapons research facility.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your patience, dear readers. Yes, I've been taking my sweet time. Romance truly isn't my forte, and I was growing ever more uncertain about what I was doing. The anxiety made the work tedious, and I was feeling out of love with this story, so I am taking a small break to go and write a few other things.  
> You'll notice The Tactician is now part of a [series](https://archiveofourown.org/series/2145555). I'm simply tying together stories set within that AU, following main or side characters.
> 
> I've also started a new series which is funnily appropriate to my pseud: [I'll Make It Worth Your While](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29113746) follows TCW bounty hunter Cad Bane as he adopts a street urchin and slowly turns into a dotting dad of Din Djarin proportions. Expect more banter, fluff and found family.
> 
> I'm also joining a monthly challenge, killing the same character every month. In this case, [Obi-Wan will bite the dust](https://archiveofourown.org/series/2129274) 12 times. February's entry is the third in a mini series called [The Bad Bacta Affair](https://archiveofourown.org/series/2152956), co-written with friends who are killing [Cody](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/KillingACharacterOnceAMonth2021/works/29088246) and [Ahsoka](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/KillingACharacterOnceAMonth2021/works/29140257). It's now up, go check it out!
> 
> Sorry for the early expectations that chapter 17 would be out soon, but I've chosen to focus on my Dark!Obi-Wan short series to get it out of my system and take a real break. Tactician is not going anywhere, but I don't want to do sub-par work with it because I have more exciting stuff on the side. I'm not starting new projects now but will finish others before returning to this.   
> See you soon!


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